Poem: Across the great river

The face of day is darkened in this wilderness -
The earth, from a curse is barren of lasting happiness;
While these black clouds are hanging here so low,
From toil and strife we’ll never respite know…

Across the great river, there is not a shadow of gloom
But a rich shore where flowers – eternal, fragrant – bloom
Where no one toils and nothing dies – eternal rest;
Where people can sing of how they are truly blest!

One day I’ll cross over to that brighter other side
I’ll cross the river, Jordan, and will not fear her tide
Though her banks be swollen and the current rough
The reward looming over her sparkling crests is worthy enough.

I sigh for this homely place; I welcome escape in nighttime
When dreams do tell of her beatific country sublime;
But until the day the escort angel will my hand take,
It will be, alas, wistful foretastes every morning wake.

The High Priest has crossed ahead, God’s Ark bearing,
Patriarchs and saints, also, for the everlasting city, longing;
Martyrs, before they dipped in the depths that looked dire,
Have found a highway paved with grace through the river.

O River Jordan, your face holds for me no more foreboding,
Your crescent ripples I now find ever so inspiring,
Your bitter waters heal all this life’s infirmity;
Saints that plunge, you’ll baptize with immortality.

©2011, Poem by Tee Akindele