3 Poems

Balaam to His Donkey

Oh, poor donkey, whose voice God opened,
Speak again your complaint to my humbled ear:
Tell me how mercy stood there with its sword drawn;
Tell me how you turned before the light I could not see;
Tell me how angels protect the humble from the demonic.
For now my heart is broken from its proud intent,
And trembling I cry, “Lord, forgive my ignorance!”
Let the beast speak Wisdom, and let the man learn fear;

And let all travellers know�"
Heaven often chooses
The lowly voice
To guard the proud from ruin.

In What Chamber

In what chamber
Sat Eglon, the Moabite,
Fat as a hill in summer,
With gold about his fingers,
And attendants laughing at every nod,
While the secret knife waited in the left hand?

Tell me where Ehud went�"
The slender, clever Israelite,
Who bowed and smiled,
Bore tribute,
And in silence
Carried cunning.

And where now is the hand that struck,
And where is the fat king now?

Buried in the fat of the earth?

Elijah and the Ravens

Black are the wings that traverse the barren skies,
The midnight heralds of heaven’s secret care,
That circle with purpose above the thirsty hills,
Now bearing sustenance to the prophet below:

Elijah, alone upon the parched and silent earth,
Whose eyes had searched the clouds for rain,
And whose heart yearned for the Lord’s provision,
Now receives the hidden bounty of the sky,
Fed by the ceaseless, tireless beaks
Of creatures black as night yet bright with service,
That temper the prophet’s spirit with their gift,
And sustain him through the drought of mortal despair.
Now walk the ravens across the wilderness,
As messengers to carry life to the faithful soul,
To entertain the servant of the Eternal One.
The sun, though scorching, looks no more upon him,
The riverbeds dry, the hills grey and empty,
Yet the wings descend, and the crystal bread and flesh
Fall into his hands as by Divine decree.
The angels of providence hover in unseen air,
Guiding each flight, each feathered motion,
And all creation pauses to bear witness
To the strange and secret care of the Lord.
And in this quiet and miraculous harmony,
The God who rules the heavens and the dry land
Holds out His hand through feathered messengers,
To sustain the faithful Elijah.
Then let my mind rise upon this vision,
And dwell upon the mercy of Heaven,
That even in desolation and famine,
The servant is not abandoned,
And the wings of blackest night
Bring the bread of life to those who wait.