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A Sestina of David
by justin d. barnard
Who can fathom the anguish of my heart?
Conscience or Holy Spirit cry,
What have I (you) done?
Words to God offer redemption;
yet, is there no balm for a broken covenant?
There is a kink in my chain.
God knows I wear a darker chain
which, with savage grip enslaves a lustful heart.
It is no sign of covenant
and oft it makes me cry,
for wearing it brings no redemption
and its insatiable work is never done.
Will God's work in me be done?
Or will I chain
myself along in cycles? Sin and redemption --
incite the anguish of my heart.
Yet in moments of spiritual fervor I cry
"Let me make this covenant!"
This cup is the new covenant . . .
Is it not enough what Christ has done
who, on Galgotha's hill did cry
"Father . . . release him from his chain"
and died of broken heart
to give redemption?
By this redemption
I make this covenant.
Lord, I give you all my heart,
may Your work in me be never done
only, take away this chain --
I cry.
Somewhere in heaven does an angel cry
for joy. A weary soul's found redemption.
Now it wears a different chain,
not of enslavement, but a covenant
of a work that is not done
but Christ is doing, in a penitent heart.
And the mysterious cry of the Holy Spirit whispers in my heart.
A work of redemption is ever being done.
It bears a crimson chain of God's new covenant.