First Things RSS Feed - David Craig

Matthew 3:7-12

Tue, 01 Apr 1997 00:00:00 -0500

This brood of vipers, fleeing from the coming fall,
are torn between the need they own, and the fee
they charge to get there. They wear their gifts for all
to see, these would-be limbs on Abraham’s tree.
The ax still takes its toll, to any pardoner’s roots.
The winnowing fork is working His hands, He clears
the threshing floor. No man of words, His shoots
produce or else they burn in the fires they hear.
But see! Their own feet betray them; their coming is praise
enough! Good Mercy who paints in such broad strokes,
whose music moves these icy spheres, these brazen
barristers, have on us, cover our sins with your cloak.
Though Mercy contains it, Justice can walk alone.
We go in twos and survive Him, stone on stone.

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Psalm #1

Wed, 01 Feb 1995 00:00:00 -0500

He does not linger with scoffers
in the slow swirl,
bubbled stem of settled
bar beer, the loiterers’
golden climb.

He sweats all day, in Presence,
mumbles among his tools.

How could he be moved?
He is the original natural man,
moving in seasons built for him.
His laugh is the laugh of water.
He does not count success.
It is his fingers.

Not so the wicked, not so.
He has no self
outside of God, sees what he is
as drives, no one behind the wheel;
chaff, before too many winds.

So how shall he stand-THEN?

But God roses the path
the takers of virtue choose.
It is His heart
they walk on, carefully.
But the way of the wicked
is too wide for signposts.
It is a desolate field
and offers nothing
no one can take.

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