This is a poem I wrote late one night by a dying fire when I was supposed to be studying Newton's Law. Well, what can you do when inspiration hits?
There it is! I see it now!
My doom is inevitable!
A dark, dark wave surges on
It reaches high to the heavens
It stretches to the corners of the earth.
It rises from the depths of the sea
Behold! Doomsday! All will know judgement!
Surely, surely, we will perish!
We are fixed—we cannot move
Some terror grinds our feet to the earth.
Our minds are captive to the wave—
Ever coming—close and closer!
A veil of darkness shrouds the air
We cannot see—our sight is dimmed.
Our wits confounded, we think not right
Only one thing we comprehend—
Death! Darkness! Despair!
Sound the horn, ye vigilant saints!
Our doom is plunging on and on!
The Wave of Woe climbs high and higher
Feasting on all that crosses its path.
Yet as the wave has nearly reached us,
Its yawning mouth op’ning wide
A ray of hope invades our minds
Driving all evil before it.
Behold! A star shines brightly!
And as its light grows brighter still
We must cover our eyes—‘tis too brilliant
We are stricken with a new terror—
The terror of our King’s face!
He gives us strength to bear the sight —
To see him swallow up Death forever.
Clothed in robes of white so pure
Even the Wave quavers at the sight!
In his strong right hand a mighty sword
Sharp and flamed with light.
And in his left he holds a scroll
Behold! The scroll of Prophecy!
He speaks—His voice is terrible to hear—
His words scarcely less so!
But lo! He hath dominion over His Enemy!
O vigilant Saints, rejoice, be glad!
For our Lord has come to claim his Bride
The beautiful one he has chosen and saved
From Death, from eternal despair and death!
O sound the horn, ye vigilant Saints!
Lift high a glad song in the celestial city!
Blessed be our God, who hath spared us!
Never again will we live in fear and anxiety.
Never again will tears stain our shining faces.
Never again will we feel sorrow or pain.
For the Lord has swallowed up Death forever—
Let us hasten to the Wedding Feast of the Lamb!
Ruby J. Hopkins
Me
About Me
- Ruby Jean Hopkins
- "Lying in bed would be an altogether supreme experience if only one had a colored pencil long enough to draw on the ceiling with." - G.K. Chesterton
G.K. Chesterton
Happy is he who still loves something he loved in the nursery: He has not been broken in two by time; he is not two men, but one, and he has saved not only his soul but his life.
Cicero
Other relaxations are peculiar to certain times, places and stages of life, but the study of letters [books] is the nourishment of our youth, and the joy of our old age. They throw an additional splendor on prosperity, and are the resource and consolation of adversity; they delight at home, and are no embarrassment abroad; in short, they are company to us at night, our fellow travelers on a journey, and attendants in our rural recesses.
Wendell Berry
Praise ignorance, for what man has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Samuel Davies
The greatest number of mankind beyond comparison are sleeping under ground. There lies beauty mouldering into dust, rotting into stench & loathsomeness, and feeding the vilest worms. There lies the head that once wore a crown… There lie mighty giants, the heroes and conquerors… the Caesars of the world… There lie the wise and learned, as rotten, as helpless as the fool.
Leo Tolstoy
Faith is the sense of life, that sense by virtue of which man does not destroy himself, but continues to live on. It is the force whereby we live.
Arthur W. Pink
The apprehension of God's infinite knowledge should fill the Christian with adoration. The whole of my life stood open to his view from the beginning. He foresaw my every fall, my every sin, my every backsliding; yet, nevertheless, fixed his heart upon me. Oh, how the realization of this should bow me in wonder and worship before him!
C.S. Lewis
Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.
2 comments:
Simply WONDERFUL Ruby! I honestly loved it and was moved by it, just as I am by most lovely poems with lovely ideas embedded in them. :-) I just realized how much I miss reading and memorizing poetry! :-P I've been away from school too long. Okay, now I'm starting to ramble. That's my signal to stop with this comment. *Stopping*
~Emma
Thank you Emma! I love poetry like that too. There's so much more inspiration in poetry than there is in prose, I think... but then, it's harder to write like Wordsworth and Tennyson than it is to write like Austen. :P
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