Showing posts with label Christ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christ. Show all posts

Friday, October 10, 2025

 1396

I know, and do not worry how I know,

That love outlasts, out shines outflanks them all.

Regardless of the cataracts that fall

Upon us and the world's demonic glow,


Love survives, love overcomes, love grows,

Love bumbles on, love sticks around, love grafts,

Love undermines all wickedness, love laughs,

Love waits until the rest have failed, love knows;


There's nothing that outlasts love's patient joy -

Knowing that eternity is real -

No power on earth has power enough to steal

The truth that love itself is never coy


Faced with barbarity, insult and shame

Love smiles, and looks all evil in the eye

Knowing that true love can never die

For love is ready to accept the blame.


Brian Hick September 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 10.10.25


Monday, October 2, 2023

 1004


How often did you pass that hill

Where the bodies hung in agony,

Sweating out their final gasps, until

Death restored an unsought harmony?

When did you first realise that there,

Nailed to a cross, the truth might slowly dawn

That you had failed, shouting in bleak despair,

While bored squaddies stand about and yawn?

Where then was the hope that had inspired

Three years of teaching, though the restless mob

Were more aroused by miracles than fired

By thoughts of new beginnings or of God?

            As you were dying, did you really see

            That you were doing this because of me?


Brian Hick September 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 2.10.23

Monday, March 27, 2023

 915

I came to you for simple understanding

In friendship, rather than imposed command;

I hoped that you would follow in my footsteps

To love as I loved, trying to understand

How even those who hated you had value

And no one was beyond redemptive love.


But now it seems I might have been too hopeful

For humankind, where Peace, that gentle dove,

Can only be assured by blooded weapons

And violence precedes the enforced calm.


The footsteps that I left seem to lie empty

With few there seeking for insight or balm,

While masses flock to massacre the innocent,

Slaughtering, to gain a martyr's palm.


Brian Hick March 2011

©copyright Sally Hick 27.3.23