Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Andrew's Farewell

I think the following poem has been with me a lifetime. It was first whispered in my ear about 6 years ago. For some reason, until now, I have been unwilling to release it.

If you've read Foxe's Book of Martyrs you will recall the account of the apostle Andrew's death, or rather, his demeanor as he approached it.

"Andrew, going toward the place, and seeing afar off the cross prepared, did change neither countenance nor colour, neither did his blood shrink, neither did he fail in his speech, his body fainted not, neither was his mind molested, nor did his understanding fail him, as it is the manner of men to do..."

Though Andrew was not in my mind as I wrote the poem, I find that I often think of him when I read it. I marvel at the Grace and Peace that was with him as he was delivered into eternity.

Andrew's Farewell

If the palms of wickedness
rub hot with hostility
and strategy
or if we see love turn to wax
before our breaking eyes

O wounded soul
look away

If the guillotine’s bladed thirst
be unquenched by martyr’s blood
or if fires bellow for fagots
a crowd to witness
and a melancholy wind

O miry clay
rejoice in the terrible hour

See beyond the storm
of this great stage
and nestle beneath His wings
where He lifts our chin to see His face
and we let go of fear forever

O how beautiful
the gates of Glory

Photo is: Martyr's Stake (google re-use)



  1. i cannot wait to see that beautiful place!

  2. Thanks for visiting Claire! I can't wait either :-)

  3. see beyond the storm
    lifts our chin to see His face

    this piece has such feeling of age, like it was taken from another time and place.

  4. Thanks nAncY. The "age" of the piece feels the same to me. It's not even my usual style... I'm happy that you like it!