Thanksgiving Sabbath

7 Comments

Poem Commentary

In spite of the pull of materialism, mankind remains bent toward faith in something more. Politically, the major religions of the world, Christianity, Islam, and Judaism each teach of a weekly Sabbath's obligation and reward. But each faith system has it's own day. Islam has Friday, Judiaism and a minority of Christians observe Saturday, while most Christians assent to Sunday as their Sabbath. The Bible speaks only of one Sabbath of Creator God. Ironic, isn't it, that these three religions that profess to serve the same God, cannot agree which day is His? Even after He has explicitly told humanity the correct answer? Ah, the perversity of the human heart to choose power over one another to acceptance with God. 

Thanksgiving Sabbath

We danced at En-gedi, beneath the falling water,

And sang into a violet sky,

Palms whispering off our prayers 

on their way past the stars.

 

We’ll sleep safe, we sit and talk

until the fullness of our feast

leaves us too weak to answer,

And one by one we nod off our non-sequeteurs.

 

We know of war, and are satisfied by peace,

We know of slavery, and are reborn to freedom,

We know of sorrow, and it leavens every joy,

We know of oppression, and it humbles us to meekness.

 

We know of enemies, so we pray for the wisdom to create friendship,

We know of intolerance, so we pray for the neccesity of patience,

We’ve known paucity, so we pray not to grasp or  to squander,

We’ve known cruel inhumanities, so we pray for the mercies of the Divine.

 

There will be days for horror, and evil’s retribution,

And days for toil, some laboring solution,

But not the Sabbath, no not now,

On the dayspring of thanksgiving.

 

Tonight, we count,

We count on one another,

We are family, sister, brother,

Tonight we count up blessings.

 

And when we have counted

every star in the ultraviolet dark,

Naming it with some providence received,

Some gift of God remembered,

 

Then we can throw our hands and heads

into that flowing tide of indigo warm,

Free from further debt to our Creator,

For all that we fondly call ours- has been His all along.

 

For we have danced at En-gedi,

We are the children of YHWH,

Tonight we sleep safe in Everlasting arms

and tomorrow, we shall journey home.


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Stryx commented on Thanksgiving Sabbath

11-25-2009

A fine philisophical piece. How can we reconcile ourselves with out religions. That is a real question...

sk commented on Thanksgiving Sabbath

11-23-2009

Beautifully done; So many have taken the sacredness out of the Sabbath....a sad circumstance of our times...you remind us in your poem as much as your commentary that we must keep the main thing the main thing...God is great every day of the week, and should be thanked each and every day...wonderful write my friend.

ginga commented on Thanksgiving Sabbath

11-21-2009

Harver, An exquisite poem so full of truths. The thanking theme it brings warms my heart. The depth of thought and control is amazing. TY for this upbeat attitude as you segue into a holiday of thanks! ginga

wheelsal commented on Thanksgiving Sabbath

11-17-2009

You have said it all in one poignant way with words. I will always admire you and your insight. Wish I could make one of your conferences or church services. You are a special friend. Sally

HarverTomsson

11/17/2009

Just take a ride in the country this Sabbath, and be here at Naomi Rd. by 11:00 AM.

SavVySam commented on Thanksgiving Sabbath

11-17-2009

"For all that we call ours-has been his all along!" Remembering just that would often keep more worldly things in perspective! A wonderfully rendered thing of beauty!

HarverTomsson

11/17/2009

And persepctive was what I was hoping to create. Thanks, SavVySam.

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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