Posts

Timeless Breathing (poem)

Timeless breathing, all I’m seeing
Longing for that moment believing,
Grace appealing, pleading, bleeding
Knowing that I’m needing, feeling.

Today, tomorrow, the mercy seen
Is in a depth, a breadth, a length,
Time is falling, days are dawning
Knowing that I’m needing, calling.

The lamb returning, and I am longing
To see the eyes of fire freeing,
The throne is moving, creatures fleeing
Knowing that he’s pleading, needing.

Saving, sustaining, knowing, growing,
I’m living, being, knowing, seeing,
Grace appealing, pleading, bleeding
Knowing that I’m needing, feeling.

This Time. (poem)

[Meditation I wrote in 2008 on getting drawn into sin and humbly coming back to God]

Lost within a time warp,
Going south, yet looking northward,
You’ve given me directions
Yet I’ve put myself at the front of my mind
Where it snows all the time,
Its cold, and I cannot see the distance
Where you told me there’s hope.

Lost in metafusion, where the now meets the then,
where I judge myself from experience,
where the papers, met the pen,
I couldn’t do it then, so I can’t do it now
Commonsense blinding me, it’s giving me to doubt.

lost in the physical, stuck in the real,
I thought it was yesterday, I’ve forgotten how to feel,
This isn’t life, it’s a fake reality
I’m tired of feeling this way,
I need stability.

Why do I do this to myself,
Theologize my breath,
I need only to trust to wait
Why am I so deaf.
God you know, I’m a human, I’m blind,
Open my eyes again, I’ll really try,
This time.

His Day. Poem written 05-07

I wrote this when exploring how senses, timelessness, and creation flowed together with the cross through the eyes of Jesus. I wrote it as an act of worship, maybe it might encourage someone else too?
His Day 

When I opened my eyes I burned with the absolute radiance of an indescribable, indestructible force, running marathons on its own persuasions gathering speed and power with every step. Every breath it drew led to the phenomena growing, never failing, never slowing, and never exhaling. Its fire broke the ice, the silence, the cold, the quiet; suspense was shattered by an unquestionable force unknown the void, undisputed among the nothingness. For now there is no nothingness. My eyes burned, my heart turned, my life learned that something new was about to happen, something from the eternal has touched the void and structured a force now settling, lying, prowling, the void is now gone. And it is good. I close my eyes, darkness, separated from the fire, different, yet penetrable. I knew a time had past, indeed a time, something never known, yet obviously apparent in its waves of certainty, the eternal is bold, and this is His first day. My eyes are closed.

I opened my eyes and behold, an expanse, rippling in its distance, crying, calling, reflecting, breathing, and knowing itself to be immovable as the fire itself. This structure screamed to all that couldn’t hear, ‘behold me for I am the heavenlies, I hold the glory of the eternal, hear and know me, for I will cover you, all your days.’ The water that held all such radiance, above compared only to the water that is held below, a fire in its own right, moving as the eternal gives it wings. Its substance, yes substance!, came across itself and wondered, ‘who am I but the bringer of chaos, what am I but reflective destruction?’ For this the eternal knew and himself took his sustaining, containing guard upon it, over it, within in, through it. So my heart burned, my eyes watered, brimming to their capacity, yet sustained, contained. It is good. I close my eyes. His second day. My eyes are closed.

I opened my eyes and behold, thunder! Loud quakes, shakes, the sounds of a thousand souls, unknown, unborn, screaming together, in agony, in harmony, in liberty. The waters that were held below rose and spiralled, drilling into the heavenlies with the fire providing its power, then moving, running, pushing its way through the crowd. Moving away from itself, towards itself, circling itself, leaving what? A void? Impossible, for that could never again exist, not now the eternal has imposed a time and a space. Then what?: A thunderous solid, not a fire nor a water; an unbreathing, a self, a constant, something inconsistently consistent within itself. Stopped. Settled. Land, Earth. A focal point for the waters to again meet, gathered about itself. I felt its heaviness in my whole being, I spoke unspoken fears never before to exist, never again to cease, the eternal is bold, yet., it is good. I close my eyes, unexpectantly, for I was lost within what follows itself as time and the arrival of this unexpected friendly foe. His third day. My eyes are closed.

I opened my eyes and behold, speckled breath, as intoxicating as the reality itself; lost, owned, known, controlled, yet bursting apart from its own radiance. Tearing. Pulling apart seams, reams, a reality from darklight dreams – a separation. A newness again, a formless void, yet not void, for void is void of void; and cannot be void, then what? A wisdom-formed time, dark, light, a time-before, a time-today, and a time-after. Part held by the warm-embrace of chaos, red-hot and true, expanding and raw, pure. The greater light, the authority of day. It settles in my nostrils with burning assurance. Assured. A lesser light too, abridged in its own right, night. A sensation. The eternal is bold, cunning, chaotically-pure. And good. It is good. And assurance to close my eyes in either time-before, or time-today to embrace time-after. I close my eyes. His forth day. My eyes are closed.

I opened my eyes and, does He dare? Yes, He dares; behold, movement, swarms, flow, heartbeat, the million-melodocracies maligning their own multitudes… … life … … what is this and what can I do, for every bud of my tongue is pierced as with a thousand drops of oil lifting and sifting above the chaos-controlled waters of certainty. The eternal is bold, with every eye and tooth, and cheek and hand there is another, and another, and another… but it is good. A settled consequence of ‘convenient coincidence’ the antimatter of void.: Life. Grouped and through, knowing, owning. Living. I taste a bitter piece beginning. Yet it is good. A mysterious melody of senses. I must close my eyes. … Submission… . His fifth day. My eyes are closed.

I open my eyes and searing pain shoots across my face, my chest, my lungs… filling, my heart… spilling. My hands, my feet… pieced. Eloi Eloi, Lama Sabathami! Tears, dropping, my heart craving , for healing, for reconciling life to life to time-before to time-today. I need. I thirst. Humanity,  Lost,heart,lost,wisdom,lost,innocence.  Yet to come, to come, time-after, in the eternal, tears today. Today. The image of the eternal, and very good it is. It is. But seeking, weeping, seeping. I close my eyes.   His sixth day.   My eyes are closed. … … My hands are pierced.   Life.   His day.   The eternal is bold.   Life.   my hands are pierced.
(copyright Timothy Gough, 2007)

Jephthah’s Tragic Vow (Poem Based on Judges 11:29-40)

Oh LORD, little did I know when I made my vow, the tragedy that would befall my heart. Little did I know when I exclaimed in my piety that death would be the reward, death from my family. My heart burns, my mind has turned, anguish grips me like a mother her new born babe; like a sparrow the meat it craves. As a babe is plucked from the breast, and a sparrow taken from its rest, so now, my child, my life, torn from me. Little did I know when I made my vow.

It has been six weeks since my little girl arrived home. Six weeks since she tumbled through my door; hop, skip, jump, buoyant smile upon her face. My child, my only child. Radiant joy upon her face, lights within her eyes unlike anything this world has seen. She opened my world and rested my mind in the contentness of this galaxy, the momentum of time and space, of truth and peace. Mine. My own little girl. My only child.

Six weeks since my little girl appeared at my door; light in her eyes as always, two blinking cherishing reflective lights only for me. Its daddy! ‘Daddy, I’m home, I’m come. Daddy take me in your arms and hold me, Daddy. Daddy? Why do you stand there still? Why, you look so frail, Daddy, what’s wrong Daddy; aren’t you glad to see me daddy? Don’t taunt me Daddy, don’t forsake me Daddy, I’m home. I’m your little girl.’

So brave my little girl, so true, so open; so penetrable her gaze. Her eyes like daggers tore right through me. Her dance ceased, the tambourine died. ‘Speak to me daddy.’ I broke. ‘Oh my daughter, my little girl, see what famine you have bought upon my heart! See what fulfilment you have bought to my vow, oh death and pain and tearing loss! But I cannot shun my LORD, I cannot pronounce judgement upon Him. What can I do? My only child.’

So brave my little girl. ‘Daddy. Father. You must do as you vowed to do. You must pour this wrath upon my soul, I am a big girl. I am your only begotten child. I am. But give me leave Daddy, let me walk and wail, for I am untouched, unknown. I am as one barren, cursed by God and afflicted. Let me mourn, two months. I will return. I must return. I am your little girl. I am your only child. And little did you know when you made your vow.’ Six weeks now since my little girl arrived home.

Six weeks since she left, and she is to return in two. Little did I know when I made my vow that the LORD would take my little girl? Little did I know when the last Ammonite fell that I would be left alone. Oh LORD, my only child. My brave, willing, little girl. That she should prepare herself for sacrifice, so willingly, so brave my little girl. That I, that Daddy must give the last blow, see the last sparkle fade from her eyes, I wonder if it’s there now?

Daddy should not have to outlive his own child. Daddy must keep His vow, from it deliverance has come, from it we are saved, from it have we inherited. I must appease. But my only little girl, so much harder is her willingness. Her piety. Her trust for Daddy. My brave little girl. She opened my world and rested my mind in the contentness of this galaxy, the momentum of time and space, of truth and peace. Mine. My own little girl. My only child.

Oh LORD, little did I know when I made my vow, the tragedy that would befall my heart. Little did I know when I exclaimed in my piety that death would be the reward, death from my family. My heart burns, my mind has turned, anguish grips me like a mother her new born babe; like a sparrow the meat it craves. As a babe is plucked from the breast, and a sparrow taken from its rest, so now, my child, my life, torn from me. Little did I know when I made my vow.