I wonder if Christ had a little black dog,
All curly and wooly like mine:
With two long silky ears and a nose, round and wet,
And two eyes, brown and tender, that shine.
I am sure, if He had, that that little black dog
Knew, right from the first, He was God;
That he needed no proof that Christ was divine,
And just worshiped the ground where he trod.
I'm afraid that He hadn't, because I have read
How he prayed in the garden, alone;
For all of His friends and disciples had fled
Even Peter, the one called a stone.
And, oh, I am sure that the little black dog,
With a heart so tender and warm,
Would never have left him to suffer alone,
But, creeping right under his arm,
Would have licked the dear fingers, in agony clasped,
And, counting all favors but loss,
When they took him away, would have trotted behind
And Followed Him quite to the Cross.
by Elizabeth Gardner Reynolds
I post this poem not so much because I like poetry, but because I like dogs.
Not knowing exactly what falls within the limits of "poetry", I'm going to include this one because it's the total package. The primitive elegance of the banjo and the eery fiddle tones really accent this song about the last great cultural taboo- death. Making it more powerful is the fact that the When I go album was the last to ever be recorded by Dave Carter. Spooooookyyy......
My favorite line is: "a twistin' pillar spun of dust and blood up from the prairie floor", but it's really hard to choose from the rest. The video is a little different from the cd version, and not quite as flowing, but still excellent.
The simple tune and masterful lyrics have captured my ear for years now, and have yet to grow old for me. Today, I listened to it on my Ipod for forty straight minutes on the way home. If I could write stuff like this, I'd be a happy man... actually, no, I'd just want something else possessed by others I don't have. So I'm going to go be content as a dusty, balding carpenter with three beautiful kids, whose Creator did the nuttiest, most insane thing in the history of the world, and that's prettier than any song I've ever heard.
But Lordy, this one is good...
The LORD works righteousness
and justice for all who are oppressed.
He made known his ways to Moses,
his acts to the people of Israel.
The LORD is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
He will not always chide,
nor will he keep his anger forever.
He does not deal with us according to our sins,
nor repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.
For he knows our frame;
he remembers that we are dust.
As for man, his days are like grass;
he flourishes like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
and its place knows it no more.
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him,
and his righteousness to children’s children,
18to those who keep his covenant
and remember to do his commandments.
The LORD has established his throne in the heavens,
and his kingdom rules over all.
Bless the LORD, O you his angels,
you mighty ones who do his word,
obeying the voice of his word!
Bless the LORD, all his hosts,
his ministers, who do his will!
Bless the LORD, all his works,
in all places of his dominion.
Bless the LORD, O my soul!
There is some poetry that commenting will only get in the way, and this is one of them. I shut my dusty mouth in awe and reverence.
CONFESSION: and a Portrait, Too,
Upon a Background that I Rue!
Ah, Yes! I Wrote the "Purple Cow" --
I'm Sorry, now, I Wrote it!
But I can Tell you Anyhow,
I'll Kill you if you Quote it!
-- Gelett Burgess
