Darkness and the Dawn
April 14th 2010 © D. J. Hayman – for the Class of 2010
Won’t you take me down to the river-side,
I want to make a new start there;
For they say the dead shall be made alive,
When they pass through that flood.
Thunder booms in the prophet’s words
As he stirs the hearts’ desire
For the Saviour who is coming soon
With Spirit and with fire.
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I smelled the leper before I saw
His body smeared with sores;
And I heard his mournful cry ring out,
“Unclean! Don’t you come near!”
Then a hand stretched out, and a voice replied
“Be clean!”—so clear and bold—
And the scene transformed before my eyes:
The wretched man made whole.
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“You drunkard!” they said, and “Glutton!” too—
“Don’t you know how to wash your hands?
“We know your kind; you’re not welcome here;
“Just go back where you belong!”
“O Father,” He prayed, “Forgive their sins—
“They don’t know what they’re about.”
Then He spoke of cleansing what’s inside,
Then turning the inside out.
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In the dark of the night, dark night of the soul,
A stranger’s kiss from a friend—
(All run away, climb in a hole,
Lest the sky fall on our heads!
He stands so tall, ‘though the blows they rain:
Words and whips, then driving nails!)—
In the light of the morn; dark night at Noon—
It’s Paradise today.
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There’s a crack in the door—the curtain’s torn—
I glimpsed the Mercy-Seat!
I know locks won’t hold a spirit out—
But this One has flesh and bones!
Hearts on fire, the incense smoke
Rises before the throne;
The Light shines on in the darkness yet—
It’s darkest before the Dawn.