The breeze toyed playfully with His hair
Tugging wistfully at His robe
At the tread of His sandals
The earth sighed with inexpressible hope
Sunlight wrapped joyfully around His frame
And danced with delight on His face
Waves stumbled softly one over another
In gleeful contest to caress His feet
Wind and storm bowed willingly
While every creature small and great
Lifted weary heads to inhale
A forgotten fragrance….
God walking again among men
And as for Him
What was it like to stride on earth’s bleeding soil
Among this fallen race?
To gaze upward through sky consumed by cloud
And taste the rain in His mouth?
To lift a handful of silver sand
And watch it tumble grain by grain earthward
Between His fingers?
To feel the rustic fibre of timber boat beneath his feet
To breathe in the aroma of oven baked bread
Or savour the sweetness of new made wine?
Did He linger on the mountain top
Silently surveying this realm of man and beast
Remembering too well
How it was in the beginning?
And did His creation weep
In anguished heartache
As men nailed Him to the tree
Cruelly fashioning even His own handiwork
Into His execution stake?
Did it hide itself in fear and disbelief
Silently absorbing the trauma
And the grief?
Dying yet again to hope
Only to retreat
To watch again in wordless agony
The desperate unfolding
Of mankind’s bitter story?
Do you feel its anxious yearning
This watching waiting creation?
Somehow sensing the nearness of that dreamlike dawn
When finally will that consummate step be felt
Upon earth’s tear stained face
And the voice of a multitude of new born adams
Resound throughout the nations
Shall the mountains and the hills bow down in awe
And the trees clap their hands at the promised revelation?
Shall sun and moon rejoice at their greater light
These children of God?
Each one in His image, bearing His likeness
Endowed with His authority
To love, to nurture and to heal
As it was in the beginning
Do you feel the heartbeat of the earth
And all its creatures
Pulsating with one burning question:
Lord, how long?
©Cheryl McGrath, Bread for the Bride, 2012
For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God. Romans 8:19-21 NKJV