Make good

Make good                                                                                       

All my words hang on a promise I cannot make

and cannot keep – a vanity of imagination,

breath and blood, if the promise has no maker;

if the promise has no keeper.

Shall I continue, o Lord, to tap out

Your timeworn promise on my alphabet board?

Grace, love, salvation – fine sentiments! 

but, paper-thin words, and – through my throat –

without substance or luminosity;

indistinct stirrings in the half-light,

the nether-world, the darkness

of ignorance mixed with the darkness of faith;

yet, I praise the promise and the Promise-keeper!

Lord, don’t leave me

twisting wordlessly in the wind

at world’s end but, gather me sweetly

in Your arms and make good, make good,

make good Your ancient-given promise.

O child of God, what the Beloved requires of you

is faith, forbearance, obedience and attempted artistry.