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Thursday, May 15, 2014

Poem: "The Coming" by R. S. Thomas

And God held in his hand
A small globe. Look he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, A river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.


  1. The picture of the Son saying to the Father "I want to be with them" I was especially meaningful to me this morning. God longing to be one with us is an image of love that I hope to remember as I go through my day.

    1. I'm so glad to read your comment, Hazel. The point you pick out is certainly consoling to me.