How here, in the deep emerald work of his hand,
eternally dreamed and eternally planned,
a sometime paradise fashioned for man
and woman to bear the first image and spark
in a world born from chaos, formless and dark?
How here, where grace allowed, for a season,
the loved to endure unthinkable treason
by our twisted motive, and our broken reason,
could we sire bedlam from what has been made
so earth’s seams now are torn and edges are frayed?
How here, where ancestral seed, in the garden
of Eden, was granted undeserved pardon,
could we lust for darkness, allowing to harden
our hearts to hideous acts and to crave
things of the night, and the pit, and the grave?
How now, among history’s pages of greed
and corruption and vice and every misdeed
from malfeasance to terror, from squander to need,
could we not, though shrouded in gathering pall,
as one, ache for final Redemption of all?
The Other 167 Hours 
17 comments
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February 18, 2012 at 12:33 pm
waterthecamels
Wow, is this your work? I love it, absolutely beautiful and powerful!!
February 18, 2012 at 12:41 pm
David Hamilton
Wow! Yes, thank you. I’ve never thought of myself as a poet but I was really feeling this ache lately – the making of all things new. I see so much hurt, injury, and evil in the work that I do as a psychologist. So many have made such a mess in the midst of a beautiful creation and I comfort myself with the promise that everything, creation itself, will be made new someday.
Your comment is very kind. Thanks.
February 18, 2012 at 1:05 pm
Writing Sisters
Beautiful.
February 18, 2012 at 1:58 pm
David Hamilton
Thank you. And it all will be beautiful someday. :)
February 18, 2012 at 3:07 pm
Frana
The poem is indescribably lovely. I have to say though that, Yes, I see others messing their lives up, but I’ve done a royal job of messing up my own, and yet God keeps doing His wonderful Romans 8:28 thing. That helps me be patient with others who keep messing up. I so often go to I John 1:9 when Satan reminds me of failures and I don’t even ask for forgiveness – I just go right to “thank you for the blood of Jesus that cleanses me from all sin.)
I would love to say things as beautifully as you do. There is a haunting beauty to that poem.
February 18, 2012 at 3:57 pm
David Hamilton
hmmm, we all are a part of what needs to be redeemed it seems. Thanks for the compliments. I’m glad you liked it.
February 18, 2012 at 7:53 pm
Cheryl
“How now…could we not long for escape from under this pall
and ache for the final Redemption of all?”
Dr. H, this is a very powerful and emotion-packed poem. It’s wonderful. Another one to print and mull over. Thank you so much for sharing it with us.
I LOVE your phrase “the emerald work of his hands.”
February 18, 2012 at 7:58 pm
David Hamilton
Well… thank you Cheryl. Yeah it just seemed like what our world might look like hanging in space when there was all green and no parking lots!
Happy mulling. and I bet you didn’t even have to look up “pall” :)
February 18, 2012 at 8:43 pm
liliessparrowsandgrass
Certainly very thought-provoking yet heart-moving, where the poem’s first stanzas start with “Why here”, and the last stanza starts with “Why Now”.
“Why here” — because God so loves the world, in spite of it,
“Why now” — because now, while the whole of creation groans and travails in pain, is the time of decision, to accept the redemption and salvation offered by a loving God through His Son Jesus Christ.
February 18, 2012 at 9:00 pm
David Hamilton
Thank you so much for your feedback on the poem. I just got done looking at your site and it looks like a blog to keep an eye on.
February 18, 2012 at 9:01 pm
David Hamilton
:)
February 18, 2012 at 9:08 pm
liliessparrowsandgrass
Thank you, and I will be back to visit your site to read your other posts. :)
February 18, 2012 at 8:45 pm
Cheryl
You’re right, I didn’t. =) And I confess I had typed “banal” in my response then deleted it (banal refering to saying “I like it” being too weak a comment in reference to this poem!).
February 19, 2012 at 8:49 pm
Kathy
You have beautifully expressed exactly where my thoughts have been lately, and my heart weighs heavy with what I see and hear every day, as I am also a therapist. Not only do I see the tragedy in the world from where I sit, I’m also experiencing it as a parent. Living grief everyday yet, our hope is in Jesus, yes that He will make all things new. Thank you so much for sharing your poem.
February 19, 2012 at 9:25 pm
David Hamilton
Thank you for explaining your background a little. I certainly can understand why you might be thinking the same thoughts. I feel so privileged to do the work I do but if were not for the hope I have in the redemption Jesus brings, it would be an unbearable burden. There are terrible, terrible things going on everyday in this world. Redemption and a making of all things new is our hope. And the best part is that our hope is based on something that is really true, not just a happy thought we try to convince ourselves of to make it through the day.
I hope you visit again and comment in the future. Thank you.
March 2, 2012 at 12:39 pm
Anonymous
This really is a poem that needs to be entered in a contest.
March 2, 2012 at 6:34 pm
David Hamilton
Someone else suggested that and so I did.