Taking Dominion

I have always enjoyed poetry. I find it is the second best means of conveying not only words and information, but the emotions around a subject. The best being songs, but since at this time I am musically inhibited, I will stick with poetry.

Each day we attempt to build something is a battle against decay, and as with any battle there is injury, discouragement and triumph. Our relationship with work is complicated and here i present a summary of that relationship. This poem is meant to resonate with those diligent enough to push forward and size the rewards.

Wrench to the bolt,

Hammer to the stock,

Shoulder to the wheel

And pick to the rock.

The bolt twists off,

The stock grows cold,

The wheel doesn’t move,

And the rocks still hold.

I stop for a breath,

Then take another swing,

I’ll win this yet,

So I make the hammer ring.

I ply my strength

At the work each day

And make a big dint

For a little lump of clay.

I plow through the thorns

In the sweat of my face,

This is my lot

As a son of Adam’s race.

This stronghold of thorns

Has its root in our sin 

But the righteous door’s open

And the kingdom’s marching in.

We echo this prayer

As we spread like leaven

Thy will be done

On Earth as in Heaven

The thistles will burn 

The thorns be damned

I've got orders from the king 

And dominion's my command.

When the chaff's burned up 

And fire's purged the land 

Creation’s full strength 

Will yield to our hand.

Creation’s groaning ceased

No more pain and pity 

As we take our place 

To work in Eden City