“The Lamb slain from the
foundation of the world” (Revelation 13:8) -
The beams of the world are
made from wood.
They’re fastened with nails
and stained with blood.
Embraced by the outstretched
arms of God,
They bind all things for
good.
The beams of the world shore
up our heart
For God’s renovation, every
part:
The clean up of Satan’s
poison dart;
Then our true life shall
start.
The beams of the world are
battle torn.
They rise against evil,
fear, and scorn.
Protecting the weary, weak,
and worn,
They guard the coming morn.
The beams of the world an
outline trace,
Through order and chaos,
pain and grace.
They shape what they bear,
through time and space,
Revealing God’s true face.
The beams of the world are
scales that weigh
The worth of a life, a
choice, a day,
By weight of a God who works
in clay,
And dies to have his say.
The beams of the world are
lines and bars
That carry the music of the
stars;
The ballad of long and
hopeful wars,
Where God has won his scars.
The beams of the world hang
low with fruit,
While sliver and thorn send
forth their shoot
Where God hung his head,
forlorn and mute,
And bowed to plant their
root.
The beams of the world,
unseen, untold,
Are stronger than steel,
more royal than gold.
All heaven and earth they
gently hold:
The hands of God enfold.
The beams of the world
enthrone a King,
Like girders that tower, and
vault, and spring
The crossing he died and
rose to bring:
The life the angels sing.
Written by Dennis Evans, October 2004
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| The Getty Center, Los Angeles, CA, 2010 |
