poetry | 2018 | 41 pages
You count my wanderings
You put my tears into your bottle.
Aren't they in your book?
- David's 56th Psalm
Some things are just staggering. I came across this line as I was reading, and cannot describe the consolation I found. "You count my wanderings." Not only is our wayfaring not pointless, but it is counted, weighed, and valued by God as part of the journey.
With this in mind, let me introduce my second volume of poetry, The Walk, named after its titular poem. Taking inspiration from the Australian bushland, this is a collection of poems about wayfaring, and of life from death.
The thing for anyone who visits bushland Australia is that it strikes one as extraordinarily dry, some might say dead; which is why almost all settlement is on the coastlands where there's water. But when the rains come, the ground, especially in certain regions, blossoms into almost a blanket-like rush of color. And one can't help but think of the oft-repeated promise of Christ's return to earth - "He turns rivers into a desert... he turns a desert into a pool of water." The poor become rich; the rich become poor; the humble exalted; the exalted humble. Of course, now is the in-between time of the promise made, and the promise fulfilled, and so there's tension. If there's one thing I can speak of that I know, it is that I'd rather be a dusty beggar loved by Christ than a rich young man. With this in mind, let me introduce The Walk. May you find comfort in your wanderings back to Eden.
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