Saturday, December 11, 2010
Driven by a dream
They leave no trace but a star’s light;
the relentless sand beneath their feet filling shapeless dents.
Under a moon thick with shadows,
silica shaped by a night wind carves graceful curves in the shifting hills
re-writes again and again a cosmic riddle for a transient age.
Anger spills out onto these sands, too,
yet leaves no stain. There is only a collective crush of sound jarring the heavens;
an anguish of grief sliding through the sand like Noah’s rain:
implacable and unexpected.
The rhythm is so Jehovah:
modest metaphor meets mythic moment;
symbol erupts from sand;
God entombed in a Baby carried by a Virgin.
And they flee a dust-bound potentate whom the world will know only as a petulant baby-killer.
The modus operandi is so human:
absolute power corrupting absolutely,
greed fueling government,
a king enthroned on a pile of gold yanked from the Earth and pinned by a flag.
And he chases a baby, never knowing the world will always know that Baby as Redeemer, King of Kings, the Christ.
A donkey plods on.
A hidden journey in a night brimming with light.
New stars like small souls flashing through the darkness;
journeying home, they pave a path of brilliance that cannot be seen by man.
One family fleeing in the night far, far from home;
standing between heaven and earth,
caught between justice and the law of the land,driven by a dream.