wordsout by godfrey rust
The sailing of the ark  < 29 of 45



29

The word was squeezed out like a drop
of ointment, a single spot

of water in the desert, or the first tiny crack
in the fault before an earthquake; the word was

a whisper barely audible, but in the hollow
of our hearts it echoed, and the echo grew

to a sound that made the whole world
stop its ears in case its ringing should crack

the deep glazing of our self-satisfaction and into
our earthen vessels pour its treasure. The word

broke in like a visitation of angels,
its bright light scattering the thin

flocks of our achievements that we graze
so carefully in high, unfriendly pastures.


into our earthen vessels pour its treasure cf 2 Corinthians 4:7 (Authorised Version: the NIV calls them “jars of clay”).

the thin flocks of our achievements The metaphor is of the shepherds at Bethlehem, the story of which is the basis of Sonnet 30 following.

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