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Rage
of the Age
The rage of all previous ages,
Once loomed to become the disjointed
music of that age.
For many it became the chords of a
dividing crescendo,
That languished to become for us a
saving adagio!
From glorious Gethsemane to a churlish
Calvary,
Was heard a howl of fury,
Echoing around the Holy City of Jerusalem!
But listen, He who suffered pain and
mayhem,
Is today Saviour and Master.
Sadly the rage of that savage age,
Still invades our world with pseudo
prestige.
Once visible within the broken mirror
of that Good Friday,
Was the piercing spear of a soldier.
And the
plea of the good thief on that darkened day.
But what of the plight of the Jewish
heart?
That to is embroidered within silken
robes that offered betrayal as an abiding art.
So dear friend
Seek not
The rock
of Ages,
The Jazz
age,
The Age
of Enlightenment,
The Age
of Anxiety,
Or any
other Age!
But remember the rage of that past
age,
Has become for all of us the smouldering
shame,
OFF ALL
AGES!
GPB
September
2004 (All Rights Reserved) |
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