Acacia of the Tabernacle, A Poem by Sojourner Matt Park

As Kristen Miller – creative writing facilitator at Sojourn – noted on Monday, the sojournchurch.com message board has a category dedicated to Poetry and Fiction.  Recently, Kristen asked participants for a story or poem that would coincide with Sojourn’s B.C. sermon series.  Matt Park answered the call with this colorful poem, which we share with you now:

Acacia of the Tabernacle

Leaves lifted, edge out darkness.
Light flutters past,
Spilling out in golden rays.
Shadow and shade run.
Where will they rest,
Seeking shelter where none will be found?

Burning, smoke filters sweetly.
Incense speaking volumes,
Smoke floating upward,
Whispering sweet nothings
In your ears.
Breath it in and be pleased by the aroma.

This spirit offered to you,
Returns from a gift given.
You ignited a tongue unseen.
Spoken, was your faith in this servant.
Freedom, the outcome.
Hands unshackled,
Now building your table,
Your ark,
Your altar,
Your temple.

Flowers blossom and bud,
As if a lamp stand burning.
Pedals offer succulent honey.
Revealing serenades seen not heard.
Take it in as it flows at your feet;
A glassy river delicate to the palate.

Embers glow and smolder.
From the mountain down to the courtyard,
Tender remnants are carried.
These hidden by scarlet linen;
Twisted and embroidered,
Framed in posts of silver; glistening like oil.

All these, we lift with acacia poles.
Dripping with gold and bronze,
Spinning ringlets embrace.
Reaching, burning, bleeding
Freedom is the outcome.
Hands pierced,
Now leave the table empty,
The ark hollow,
The altar broken,
The temple ruined.