Heaven and the Midgaurd Serpent

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On wild winter nights the Vikings

In want of springtime light

Wove stories round their fire rings

Allegories of Godly might.

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About how the works of righteousness

Executed for self-glory

Are cannibalistic emptiness

Like the Midgaurd Serpent’s story
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Whose snaking form winds round the world

His tail inside his jaws

Down his throat his tail does curl

He swallows without pause.

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And so we too, so full of self,

Are feasting on our flesh.

We must have Heaven’s help

To release our hold and rest.

 

So our blood flows free

As the tail comes out our throats

So hardened hearts will grieve

At the loss of all their hope.

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We writhe in healing pain

As the Spirit extricates the tail,

We lose the world for a soul to gain:

In death our life prevails.

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With this sword the veil is torn,

And we soar beyond the grave.

When the body dies the soul is born

No more to be enslaved

 

To its passionate promotion:

Of the emptiness inside.

That swelling swirling ocean

Disappearing with the tide.

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But the things of spirit realm

Seeming light and airy and lofty

Are solid as a longboat helm

Cutting currents cold and lonely.

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We see ourselves as solid,

Sitting firm on upon our rock

But truly we’re waxing pallid

Impotently lost.

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Heavy Heaven – sharp and real-

Causing pain where it touches

All the fakeness we pursue with zeal,

Killing death with vicious clutches.

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And so we will with unveiled face

Behold the mountain peaks in glory,

Seeing our invisibility erased

As we are consumed into God’s story.

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In every myth, a word of truth

Foreshadows future grace

Ancient stories ring with proof

Of the things we see in faith.

 

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Meaning in the Mountains

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(Part I – Formed in Wrath)

 

“When the stars threw down their spears,

And watered heaven with their tears”….

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When the earth heaved up its strength

And bared its arm from breadth to length,

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When the rocks rippled up like waves

And mighty highways in clouds were paved,

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When the ancient flooding waters abated,

Leaving fossilized footprints of oceans faded,

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God’s breath –  icy polar frozen blast

Birthed the glaciers – obelisks to His righteous wrath.

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And now, these marching giants rising

Are rumbling their green towards blue horizon.

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Ranging like beaching waves unrolling.

Trailing paths like mysteries unfolding.

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(Part II -Renewed in Grace)

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God leads His lambs in spacious places

Choosing quiet to reveal His wild faces

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And these lambs, like tygers, becoming bold.

Always outgrowing the civilized mode.

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Exiting their Egypts, taking on new life

Renewing the covenant up on His heights.

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Up on the mountains formed in His anger,

Finding green pasture: an overflowing manger.

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“Father up, and father in,” He calls

“To fountains deep and banquet halls.

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Traverse these heights with rising Son

Where the lambs like burning tygers run.”

 

–Props and Apologies to William Blake and C.S. Lewis

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