Thursday, January 18, 2007
Meditation on Daniel 5:1-31
O see, an unseen hand now writes
Upon life's trembling wall,
Carving letters made of light
To read, for one and all.
Counted, counted, weighed, divided --
The words He writes in warning.
O will you watch them fade away,
Forget ere comes the morning?
The writing is upon the wall,
Counted, weighed, divided --
O will the hand bring you to tears,
When you find out what's decided?
The book of life is in His hands,
Your actions tallied, all
O will you turn and walk away
Or listen to the call?
Counted counted are the cries
That rise to Heaven's door,
Mothers weeping in the night,
Their hearts a-breaking sore,
Hungry children, broken souls,
Forgotten, left to die,
God hears the pain that we let slide,
and marks down every sigh.
Weighed each answer to His call,
weighed each turn away.
Weighed each time we answer yes,
Weighed each quiet nay,
The answers written in His book,
the count made very sure --
The motives noted for each act,
greed or lust, or pure.
The day will come with trembling knees,
when we stand there at his call,
He will look within his book
to judge us one and all.
Each sheep and goat will take their place,
Each stand to left and right,
O will you name be in the place
of darkness or of light?
The writing comes as no surprise,
The Word gives out its warning.
No hidden scripts to puzzle out,
The truth as clear as morning.
Two thousand years God's made it clear,
Two thousand years and more.
O let His words work in your heart,
O open up the door!
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Upon life's trembling wall,
Carving letters made of light
To read, for one and all.
Counted, counted, weighed, divided --
The words He writes in warning.
O will you watch them fade away,
Forget ere comes the morning?
The writing is upon the wall,
Counted, weighed, divided --
O will the hand bring you to tears,
When you find out what's decided?
The book of life is in His hands,
Your actions tallied, all
O will you turn and walk away
Or listen to the call?
Counted counted are the cries
That rise to Heaven's door,
Mothers weeping in the night,
Their hearts a-breaking sore,
Hungry children, broken souls,
Forgotten, left to die,
God hears the pain that we let slide,
and marks down every sigh.
Weighed each answer to His call,
weighed each turn away.
Weighed each time we answer yes,
Weighed each quiet nay,
The answers written in His book,
the count made very sure --
The motives noted for each act,
greed or lust, or pure.
The day will come with trembling knees,
when we stand there at his call,
He will look within his book
to judge us one and all.
Each sheep and goat will take their place,
Each stand to left and right,
O will you name be in the place
of darkness or of light?
The writing comes as no surprise,
The Word gives out its warning.
No hidden scripts to puzzle out,
The truth as clear as morning.
Two thousand years God's made it clear,
Two thousand years and more.
O let His words work in your heart,
O open up the door!
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: Judgment, Last things, Need for God, scripture
Monday, January 01, 2007
Lacrimosa Dies Alla
Domine, exaudi orationem meam.
Hear our prayer, O Lord,
And let our cry come unto thee.
The day of tears,
the day of ashes,
the day trembling seizes us,
clamor meus ad te veniat.
the hand of Cain upon his brother
Memorare, O pie Jesu, Domine,
Clamouring in a wailing of tears,
and blood and pain,
anger and angst,
pain,
the cry of despair,
how our cry comes to thee,
Lacrimosa die alla,
every day,
the day of tears,
ashes,
ex favilla,
dust,
at our hand,
the all too willing tool of darkness.
Miserare nobis.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Hear our prayer, O Lord,
And let our cry come unto thee.
The day of tears,
the day of ashes,
the day trembling seizes us,
clamor meus ad te veniat.
the hand of Cain upon his brother
Memorare, O pie Jesu, Domine,
Clamouring in a wailing of tears,
and blood and pain,
anger and angst,
pain,
the cry of despair,
how our cry comes to thee,
Lacrimosa die alla,
every day,
the day of tears,
ashes,
ex favilla,
dust,
at our hand,
the all too willing tool of darkness.
Miserare nobis.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: Judgment, Last things, Need for God
