The Whirlwind Bides His Time

Having recently had The Rev. Joseph Carlson as a Guest on the recent episode of CrossPolitic, I thought it might be nice to get one of his sonnets before you. This is for the 24th Sunday of the Trinity Season in his book of Sonnets for the Church Year.


Four hundred years – the silent skies look on.
Though no word comes, though prophets all are gone,
A promise waits to usher in the dawn.
The promise made: that He who is – unsought
By nations, tribes and tongues in darkness caught –
Would be their Light, ascending swift on high
With captives in His train and in His eye,
And giving gifts to men to set them free,
To loose their rusted chains, make blind eyes see.
The Whirlwind bides His time, till all is ripe;
His longed-for Word will come, and with the stripes
A healing unforeseen, all tears to wipe.

Believe this word, and wait for God above;
The secret place of thunder rains down love.

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