He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the former things have passed away.
(Revelation 21:4)
‘Our thoughts and prayers’
weightless words
drift,
disperse,
leaving
no trace.
Petitions scroll,
light on screens;
they cannot write
the stories
of lives
erased.
A finger follows
a map of grief, traced in tears
shed without water
on ashen cheeks.
Steps sink through carpet
to laden tables;
wine enough to dull
the taste of distant pain.
Weighty deliberations
to calibrate
inhumanities:
a hundred
children
in the
balance
will not
outweigh
one
offended
sovereign
honour.
A joyful smile,
a playful tilt of the head,
a world imagined
thousandfold –
lost.
See, I make
this world –
its indifference its cruelty –
its beauty and its love,
all things –
He bears
the weight
of grief,
follows
the salt-map
of every tear
to hallowed places
where stories were lost
and ash dispersed
and bones lie unmarked,
unnoticed
by man.
He leans
to inscribe their names.
They live
new
- Tom Ravetz
We have two online events coming up: a talk on Art and the Threshold and a seminar on the Prologue of John. For more details and to book, please see this post
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