26 April 2009

The Making of Me

One life is all I have.
What will I do with it?


I could make the most of it:
Indulge myself and seek out pleasure,
Take what I want wherever I can get it,
Give nothing out except to my advantage,
Use whoever and whatever,
Every appetite to gratify;
Then, at the end, look back
And revel in the making of ME!

One life is all I have.
What will I do with it?


I could make the best of it:
Deny myself and lay up treasure,
Give all I can to those who truly need it,
Take nothing to another’s disadvantage,
Use myself and all I am,
Others’ real needs to satisfy;
Then, past the end, look back
And marvel at the making of me.

One life, two ways
To spend my days,
When fullness means empty
Or nothing means all,
Where one ends in silence,
The other shouts loud.

One life is all I have.
What will I do with it...?


Copyright © 2009 Desmond Hilary

12 April 2009

Son’s-day Morning

Brilliant, burning light
Floods the tomb.
Darkness flees the flame
For sanctuary in the shadows
But finds they are gone:
For here, there is light
And no darkness.

Brilliant, burning light
Banishes darkness.
Death’s grip slips away,
A broken body breathes –
Breathes, and lives again:
For here, there is life
And no death.

Brilliant, burning light
Restores and heals
The True Light of the World,
Who stands and laughs loud,
Delights in life itself;
For here, there is wholeness
And no pain.

Brilliant, burning light!
Angelic beings
Fold the remnants of defeat,
Bow low before their Maker,
Gaze up at his face, and smile;
For here, there is triumph
And no defeat.

Brilliant, burning light
Proclaims resurrection,
That He who lives and was dead
Is now alive for ever
And, with Him, all who are His;
For here, there is eternity
And no ending.

Brilliant, burning light
Spills past the moving stone
And presages the age
Of new-hearted people
Who can lift their heads:
For here, there is favour
And no shame.

Brilliant, burning light
For all the world to see.
The Light of Life and All People
Wrought in one act on one day
Everlasting peace:
For here, there is shalom,
And full salvation.

Copyright © 2009 Desmond Hilary

10 April 2009

God’s Friday

Darkness rolls in.
A man weeps in a garden,
Pleading for release but
There is no escape.

Darkness rolls in.
Liberty, now captured,
Is carried away,
Betrayed by a kiss.

Darkness rolls in.
Witnesses lie on oath.
The Guardians of Justice
Condemn the Innocent.

Darkness rolls in.
The first beating is dealt.
Mockery and Humiliation
Pluck at his beard.

Darkness rolls in.
The Roman finds no fault
But condemns him still; soldiers
Flense him with whips.

Darkness rolls in.
The troops have their sport:
He is known as a king, so they
Crown him with thorns.

Darkness rolls in.
He is lead out to die
Like a common criminal,
Carrying his end.

Darkness rolls in.
Nails are driven home,
The hammering drowned by
An agony of cries.

Darkness rolls in.
The sun hides its face.
The man breathes his last.
His broken mother weeps.

Darkness rolls in.
Splattering in the dust,
The final drops of blood
Carry all our deaths.

Darkness rolls in.
Remains, wrapped in linen,
Lifeless, still, grown cold, are
Sealed in a tomb.

Darkness rolls in
And laughs in its triumph,
Then gasps and trembles, for
The Light is coming…

Copyright © 2008 Desmond Hilary