In recent times there has been an increasing call from the scientific community for earth’s population to live more responsibly, with more sensitivity towards our environment. We hear such news all the time—always there is some new piece of information confirming global warming, some species teetering on the brink of extermination, or some government enacting new legislation to try to turn the tide. It may be disputed whether these alarms are based on factual evidence, but this is not the matter to be addressed here. These may not be legitimate concerns, but even if they are, how must we as Christians respond to this growing movement? We cannot merely stand by and let this issue rise or fall; the world demands a response. What will it be? Read More
We see and stand as though entranced
The brightest vision along the shore.
Right through the fiery furnace
Across the dunes of time,
Beyond the cathedral:
A place sublime.
Beads of glass.
The age of glory fallen
New things come to pass.
The sands of time are falling
Into the bottomless pit. Behold!
They come now shifting: tiny bits of grit.
Poet’s note: Although filled with symbolism and seeming meaning, this poem is totally nonsense. It represents nothing, it foretells nothing. It is simply a very spacial poem that I wrote for school on March 19th, 2007.
In times past our fathers told
Great stories of serpents which fire breathed.
These dragons in caves dark would lie
Till roused by hunger, or want of sport.
Though by many forgotten, these “fairy tales”
Are echoes of ancient truth.
In days of yore the creatures were killed,
Thus here they are hardly seen.
Yet beyond the sea, across the sand,
There lies a land where dragons still dwell.
A fertile place the creatures found,
A lovely verdant land, and free
Of human population. However, a few men
Since discovered the spot, and now live there.
Should you ever venture thither, you shall find
A mountainous country, yet warm and kind.
The tongue of its people is understood by all
And the whole land is luscious green.
Yet do not expect to discover dragons,
For their very presence few may view.
The loud roar of the thunder breaks through the damp air,
And a train whistle sounds from the valley below.
Then the torrent returns; raindrops fall everywhere.
A great bolt splits the sky, and the hostile wind blows.
Since the weather is inclement, homeward we fly.
In the stove crackling flames keep us toasty and warm,
And our roof (though it leaks) keeps us perfectly dry.
What a wonderful day just to wait out a storm.
As I sit in the house staying out of the cold,
I look up at the shelf and discover a book.
The covers are dusty, the pages are old,
But the story within it is worth a good look.
On the moon there is a man;
Drum they call his name.
Though he’s from no worldly land,
On earth he has his fame.
Look into the skies at night;
Search the lunar face.
Gaze upon his features bright;
You’ve seen the man in space!
Some say he does not exist,
Many are in doubt.
You and I though, we’ll insist
Old Aiken’s still got clout.