
DROPS of DEW
Reflections of A Poet Theologian
“Let my speech fall like the gentle rain, my words distill
like the morning dew, like spring showers on the tender herbs.”
-- Deuteronomy 32:2 --
C R U S H E D
I crushed the lovely lavender
Held fast within my fingers
And, heaven sent, that soaring scent
Still in my memory lingers.
Jarred my jaded senses so
I thought not of the careless blow
Nor of the death to Beauty!
Eclipsing finery of Kings
The flowers God has so arrayed
Speaks of Wisdom’s higher power
And all The Artist’s Love has made.
What fragrant oil, what floral blood
That courses through each tender bud
And sweetens every breath!
What blessed scent wafts through the years
From Him, that sweetest Bloom of all
Transplanted to such sinful soil
Yet faithful to His Father’s call.
Bruised and crushed yet curse repealed
And now His empty tomb doth yield
The fragrance of forgiveness!
“But He was pierced through
for our transgressions,
He was crushed for our iniquities;
The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him,
and by His scourging we are healed.”
Isaiah 53:5
