by Gideon Burton
Unto thy Son the molding of the sun;
Into His care the careful craft of earth;
By Jesus Lord, who privilege first had won,
Came all the world's creations into birth.
Thou didst unto His able hands bestow
The sculpting of the mountains, rivers, skies;
The planting of all growing things below,
The raising of them tender as they rise.
The sinews, organs, tissues of thy seed
Did Jesus bind together, blood and bone;
His patient, able hands met every need--
Creation's power to Him was giv'n alone.
Yet Father, distant God of shadowed power,
Did come to heal Creator in his hour.
Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship. Photo: flickr - reutC
This is beautiful in so many ways.
ReplyDeleteI think we often tend to think of Christ in one role, whichever we are focusing on at the moment. I like the way you blend the roles, showing that his purpose was so multi-faceted. That like the rest of us, he was so many things at once.
I love the line, "His patient, able hands met every need--." It is both part of the story of creation and a foreshadowing of things to come.
And the last line brought tears to my eyes. What a tender parent moment.