He rises above the nightly mist
He rises above the nightly mist,
a hostile globe is set alight.
Today we greet with loathing
what was once a worshiped sight.
His light pierces our eyes,
harshly rousing us from our sleep.
We stumble around and shun his light,
cursing him for wanting a leap.
“This is not enough for us,” we say.
“It is everything,” he replies.
“Your light is hot and blinding,” we charge.
“My light is warm and bright,” he cries.
“You cannot expect what you ask.
With logic we will find a way.
We might reach you on that side.
Or maybe down here we will stay.”
We dream of light but hope for dark,
Proudly wearing our shameful mark.
He flies his gallant standard,
calling us to his holy side.
“Come my friends, my brothers,
our righteous banner will abide.”
His army pushes ahead,
forcing back the dark enemy.
Some of us join his fight,
though many simply hide and flee.
“Forward, my friends! The front advances!”
His song is heard across the field.
“The fight is hard, but victory is glory!”
The fate of dark is nearly sealed.
He rides ahead, sword in hand.
The wicked horde falls before him.
They make a last, desperate charge,
but his sacred light does not dim.
The foe is vanquished, the fight won,
but still we all hide from the sun.
“Why do you crawl like babes?
Why do you still refuse to stand?
Why do you ignore my plea?
Do you not see my open hand?
“Do not be so foolish.
You say you only seek a sign.
What you seek, you will not find.
Truly, ‘tis I for whom you pine.”
His light now shines from above.
Many men have now heard his call.
They turn their backs on evil.
They arise from their errant fall
By faith we see his glory.
By faith we hear his truthful word.
By faith we gain our hope.
By faith we feel his gentle bird.
And still he calls us to healing,
a walk that begins with kneeling.
© Copyright 2005, Jason E. Heath
All rights reserved