One day I was listening to the radio, and the song
– ‘A Horse With No Name’ by ‘America’
was playing with it’s many lyrics –
“I’ve been through the desert on a horse with
no name. . .
After two days in the desert sun. . .
A river that flowed made me sad to think it
was dead”. . .
These words reminded me of the beautiful story
of God’s search for His children in the desert
wanderings of His people through the ages, portrayed
by the Prophet Ezekiel – Chapter 16!
Even down to our time, for all who are
singed with troubles and fire in their desert
experience, God in His love searches for us never
giving up!
A metaphor of words and images in the form of a poem came to my mind –
Hooves pounding on the clay baked ground!
The child playing among the reeds on the river’s edge!
A voice is heard in a desolate land
“Oh Ezekiel, what do you have to say
of this man, one that is searching
for a child among rocks, stones and
burning sand?”
where serpents lie. Cacti hide a tiny
wren, it’s wings singed from the noon
day sun, never flying as high again.
All is still, but for the horse and its rider
moving faster, its hooves pounding the
clay baked ground.
On the first day of his journey, no child
was found and in disappointment turns
his horse around. With an empty heart
and far from blest, even though he did
his best.
He could not remove the picture from
his mind and returned to the desert one
more time. Searching far and near, a cry
in the distance spurs him on.
With the brim of his hat to shade his
eyes, looking on the desert floor, in a
pool of blood in a pocket of sand, he
hears a child’s cry again.
Lifting this baby to his saddle side, with
his hands its tears he dries.
Cleansing with water and oil, removing
clothes dirty and soiled. With newness
of life the child arises, it is given a name
no longer living in shame.
The desert is turned to a river bed. The
wren flies high again and with joyful song
it sings.
Living waters flow upon the earth, bidding
the child live in a land with no more
dread.
Playing among the reeds on the river’s
edge, no danger will come from the adder’s
den, for there is no more sin.
All things are new because of this Man’s
Redemption Plan!
Donna's Poetry Blog 