This Thing (part 1)

From new-born cry until we die its need is captivating,

An underlying hunger, pure, profound and inundating

our sweet half-second triumphs as the climax of its praise

dissolves in time’s progression to a haunting, hurting haze.

Even Adam in the Garden and Eve close by his side

in spite of Love’s perfection were not fully satisfied,

lured by the wily serpent to that one forbidden fruit,

hungry for sublime wisdom that would make them wise as God.

Now lust, this Hunger’s enemy perplexes our best

intentions, as the need of It expands within our chest

and though we hold It dearly and we weep to let it go

because of Its outpouring into living’s leap of woe

as vespers strum the twilight limb etched keenly on the dusk

and we, within its gripping hymn our feeble hopes entrust

back to the One who IS the hunger we are hurting for

but somehow trade It for distractions that invade this stricken shore

as vainly then we fumble with elusive understanding

straining for the Intangible, immortal and transcending

what we cannot acquire without  suffering Its price

encapsulating every breath with Its cost; sacrifice.

For Love, Hungers great mystery cannot be bought or sold

yet costs us everything we have Its perfect wonder to behold.

Can we with feigned politeness Its devout expression boast?

Or divide our allegiance yet proclaim Its uttermost?

The measure of its pleasure is a selfless dividend.

We cannot keep This Very Thing on which our needs depend

yet, in its dispensation it returns ten-thousand fold

if we yield not to temptation Its eschewal to withhold

as Ananias and Sapphira who coveted man’s  praise

but were struck dead as Love revealed the evil of their ways;

For Love cannot impart in part; It is That Sacred Whole

untainted if we love the Lord with mind, body and soul,

so Grace descended, for He pitied our hopeless, helpless state

providing for Himself a Lamb to save us from sin’s  Fate

where, from the bliss of Eden, man was thrust to till the sod

and bear the curse of disobedience declared by Holy God.

Now, lust and love struggle and war within our frames of dust

and everything we hunger for returns to this One Must-

Love; the off-spring of Immaculate Conception,

Its fullness, yet unfathomed by our corrupted perception

but, as the heart surrenders in earnest faith and belief

He imbues with Love’s assurances His comfort for our grief

though unleashed demons scream and seek to nullify our hope,

His Love is greater than death’s schemes; and though we pant and grope

through bogs of fear and failure or through disappointment’s vale

Love promises forgiveness, for His mercy will not fail

but binds us to Himself; Love. Pray God, how can it be?

We are secured and held by Love; this frail mortality

can fly on wings as eagles, not for boast’s shallow reward

but, because His Love renews our strength if we hope in the Lord

Therefore, we press against the weight that flails within our core

for this is not the paradise we were created for

when Eden’s door was guarded and its Paradise was lost

mankind began Its journey seeking hunger’s uttermost, 

Its evidence is everywhere in nature’s diadem

The Keeper of birds of the air and every floral gem

instills in us awareness of a greater Presence where

Faith is the substance of its hope; its fellowship is prayer

And as the flower of the field blooms then returns to earth

So are the days of man; what is life’s meaning then or worth

if we forfeit eternity while searching for This Thing?

Yet, God so loved the world He died Its fullness thus to bring

To every woman, man and child who was, is, or will be

Love gave His life to pay the debt of sin and set us free

And even now this Hunger wails and groans for His decree

That we should love each other just as Love loves you and me

The tactics of the human heart are deceitful and vain

With lips we utter white-washed words while our thoughts disdain

the mouthed profession spilled to satisfy the ears of men

when we are stinking sepulchers of lust and greedy yen,

forgetting that Love knows the heart; where our passions lie

and we will meet Love face to face when our bodies die,

Then we will never hunger for this aching filament

of Love that transcends everything beneath sky’s ether tent

For there, the crux of every want, of every wish and whim

Will bow before the throne of God and we will worship Him

And every vile schismatic will weep for the utter loss

Of shunning He who bled redemption in red rivers from the cross

But now the day of Grace extends so we may find its peace

See how each season folds, end synchronizing with release

Until Its folded moments chart a day, weeks, months and years

And then, that final, faint half-breath when Time’s grace disappears

Where nothing but Time’s living proof will testify our love

As we come face to face with what our speech cannot disprove

For Love will seek to find our names written within a Book

of life; where he records the precious hour when we took

our brokenness before Him as we uttered ‘I believe’

and then according to His word we have come to receive

the inheritance promised as our sins were washed away

and Love at last is perfect in this Everlasting Day

© Janet Martin