Pomegranates
prophetic poetry by Ron David Metcalf
© 2004-2005 all rights reserved
Good News
The solitary beating of the fervent heart
resounds like ripple circles on a glassy lake
brings news of life to distant shores
or light from Heaven's fiery stars
traverse the silent fearsome emptiness
to shine on mankind's peace and wars.
What word, O traveler, do you bring?
About what passionate hope do you now sing?
I sing of One seen long ago residing in a pleasant land
Who lifted love up from the dust and held sweet music in His hand.
He healed multitude infirmaries; He calmed the sea and walked on waves;
gave saving power to helpless souls; then died, but rose up from the grave.
How can we judge your story true?
How can we meet this One, like you?
I know it's hard for you to see how this One lives inside of me.
A childlike faith is what you need to separate the chaff from wheat.
You may not understand today; perhaps you'll sneer and walk away;
but I'll still love, and I'll still pray that I, and you, will have His way.
Ron David Metcalf © 1/11/06
ADORNED
Ablution
From the press no man has trod
flows the precious blood of God.
Get salvation; get your healing:
free to all the humble willing.
Come and dine. Come, drink wine.
Heaven's offering banquet, mine.
Shun thieves who merchandise the feast.
God's children are His kings and priests.
Heed the Shepherd- Him alone:
Slain Lamb most worthy of God's throne.
Praise Him, peoples of the earth:
God of love and holy birth.
From the press no man has trod
flows the precious blood of God.
Adjuration
For tSYWN's sake I will not keep silent.
How lovely are your streets, O YRWShLYM!
Forever HYDWT will pour from the lips of YHWDH.
The YDWD of YHWH will not be abandoned; YWN will not prevail;
Your YD will hold when all assail her.
The YTR of YSRAL will YShE:
YHWH's YEtS will YtSA.
YcHD into His YcHYD: YcHL on YHWH.
[line 1: Zion's
line 2: Jerusalem
line 3: songs of praise/ Judah
line 4: beloved of God/ Greece (Javen)
line 5: hand
line 6: remnant of Israel/ be saved
line 7: God's plan (purpose)/ go forth
line 8: be united (joined)/ only begotten Son/ wait (hope) in God]
Alluvion
New morning mercies cleanse my mind.
Jesus, give me Your heart.
Restore my vision to behold the beauty of Your creation
unhindered by sin and death.
Let me hear the music of Your heavenly choir.
Increase my desire in compassion.
Let me live the fullness of life now and forever.
Free my feet to dance.
Give me complete Love, Joy and Peace in Your Most Holy Spirit.
Let my song ring out to You.
An agreement with Paul neither saves nor heals me.
A hireling for Peter falls far short of Your glory.
Yeshua Messiah, I most desperately need You.
Free me from this slavery, Lord.
Let Your covenant promises to those You love
embrace me
as I rise early and prophesy victory in You, God my Savior.
It is time, it is time: overthrown, overthrown.
The cross-kissed curse is broken: give Your crown to the despised.
As ebb washes into flow, the last becomes first.
Resurrect us now into Your strength and power,
as the Son becomes One with the Father.
In Jesus' love and name, amen. Ron David Metcalf © 5/18/05
THAT DAY
“For it will come to pass in that day,” says the Lord of hosts, “ that I will break his yoke from off your neck, and will burst your bonds, and strangers will no more help themselves to you: but you will serve the Lord your God, and David your King, Whom I will raise up unto you.” Jeremiah 30:8,9
On that day
Zion is redeemed:
When children of God sing
And rejoice in His Presence.
Shekinah Glory return
To the mountain of Jerusalem.
We prepare our white garments
For the soon-coming King
While wedding bells ring:
“All our all our sins
are washed are washed away!”
Dancing in the streets again.
We don’t care what you say.
We don’t sit silent in your pews anymore anyway.
We only hear His voice
Saying, “Go to the highways
And byways, and bring the lost
And lonely to My feast.”
You tried to stop us
And you failed.
Now put on your black robes
And your veils, and mourn for yourselves.
Resurrection Day is here.
The shofar sounds and draws us near.
Garden gates fling open wide.
Fountains gurgle- streaming glide
O’er the see-saw swings and slide
Onto the rising ocean tide
Where harbor vessels of the Bride.
Congratulations.
Go to the Nations.
Love with celebration.
In Jesus’ love and name, Ron David Metcalf © 2/27/05
THE CROSS OF RUTH
is numbered law in ageless wage in awesome awl,
a solitary mirrored shawl in beating fallen-sine-struck time-
constraining planes of atmosphere.
Recite the paternoster grade of gilt-edged gown and sultry glade beneath the turbine’s fiery glowing shield protecting harvest hearth and home.
Consign the grinding caterpillar- hoist the chain!
Remove the chilblain handsome truss from salt-swathed face and roosting crane.
Suspend the medal-laden bridge in empty upright-minded space beyond the mercenary’s racing
ruined road and groaning grain.
05/06/02
ABSALOM
Lake Wildmere
rises from dew-soaked elder
WITHIN THE BEGINNING
ripping dawn from blood-stained morning
contractions RIPPLING QUIET
reflections in glinted surface conceptions
patiently pacing in white sterilized waiting rooms.
FATHER OF PEACE your sword
pierces deep past sacrificial confessions
toward enthroned obligations. Shall the
hovering blade strike the yielded heart
twice- Christ or Joab emerge
from the cruel water shaft? Laughing boy,
what’s inside those blank staring eyes?
Can I turn my old back and leave you to die?
My son, my son.
5/07/02
UPLAND PLOVER
rick & rill tattersail longevous patter rainwashed
rails tacit thicket woodnote wicket parsec-terraced
train & trailer.
riparian whippoorwill gristmill mountain plainsong
stroller workhorse rowan preacher hymn
drunken Jim tergiversate troth & trover.
tuck & tucket transom stance tramontanic transhumance
thoughtway thrall tiara mall tilth and tiercel…
tintinnabulation.
5/20/02
HELP
The 99 were safe inside,
the hearthstone fire was burning bright;
what kind of fool would even try
to go out on this awful night
to look for one poor, rain-drenched sheep
caught in some branch or fallen tree
who did not come when he was called
and doubtless got what he deserved-
that sheep was me.
Appointments due that could not wait
and dressed sharp in my three-piece suit-
an old car stranded on the road
and if I stopped, I would be late;
but mom and babe looked tired and worn.
I took the lug nuts from the rim
and saw a face smile from the seat-
and it was Him.
6/01/02
The Simple Sing the Song
Learned long ago in solemn halls
Of darkened massive space reverberating vows of
Solitary multitudes unwinding wails of mended
Rain regaled in satin sheets of restive hoods concealed in
Shadowed hallowed rood beneath the stained and slivered pane:
“Your death, our life.”
This is not right.
Beyond imposing bell and spire a massive
Pile of vapor forms of current draft and
Thundering charge removing any earthly
Doubt of tears stored up and freedom’s slain
Let loose of stricken cells of grief and rules
Of strict unyielding jade.
The simple sing the song learned long ago,
But they are wrong.
“Your death, our death.
Your life, our life!”
11/14/02
My Father owns the cattle on a thousand hills;
I sit in solitude by candlelight.
The Holy Spirit wanders where He wills;
each little word I struggle long to write.
But in the evening breeze a song I hear
that whispers tidings of the coming year.
Upon a barren hill a rampike stands,
a somber silhouette in gloaming grey
etched by the falling flakes of early snow
that nestles on the ground and has its way.
But in the darkened world the powder white
begins to gleam and shimmer in the night
as weary pilgrims look into the sky
to find which way go slaves and kings,
uncertain of their gifts, though bitter cold
within each cell a joyous celebration rings
anticipating harvest, hearth, and home
retelling that we’ll never be alone
for LOVE forever pure surrounds the throne.
12/10/02
The Gilt-Edged Leaves and Crimson
lucid sky reflected on the piedmont pool falls trickling down the murrey slake in limbate
vermeil/vermilion rivulets awakening woodnotes from the
thicket’s tardy thrush below the headland’s rutilant
rack. Matin’s laud and plainsong instrumental peace reverberate from monachal walls as hearthstone’s embers waft ascending in sangfroid supernal surety beyond the vatic mortmain rood: oriflamme of cordate ablution. Orisons of versant motets from staunch transpontine passers-by replete in hiemal’s ovine transhumance repeat epiphanies of hospice’s affluence and renascent manumitted litany; oneirically, nascently lulling shepherd’s keep nodding to wellsweep’s trochal cord squealing in transom’s innate vim & vis and tantara of recrudesced gears.
Iridescent limen girasols illumine and elutriate the turning haptic helve, scumbling the pellucid paragon in melliferous overt mansuetude, itenerating nitid rectitude, nudging salubrious violition, cleaving sacrosanct serependipity in
sentient olibanum affiance and vineal vicissitude: olivaceous guerdon, redolent unguent of the scintillating scythe and
hemic-snathed stigma.
Sonorously the silvern strand streams by ephemeral rillstone verglas, lingering on eluvium riffles recessed in algid, shade= shaled talus, reflecting early vallate beams in trenchant shimmering saltation; then skitters on to lotic reach eloigning above the moiling millrace: noetic nisus extravasating sinuous sacradotal extirpation and sacramental expropriation in churning ebullition and patulous telic tourbillion theophany’s effusive exigency and recondite extorsion, riving pomace velleity from anomalous aspersion.
You led us to slaughter without a defense.
Passible, exiguous effluence extenuates and extricates past the scandent, sagittate outrance: salient spire of poplar’s ken and Shrovetide’s aeolian sennet.
Before that righteous tree
Love’s carried on the wind-swept key.
Learn what the righteous know,
Why love’s surrounded by the lost and low.
virescent rareripe efflorescence
greensward haulm-harrowed heron engendering hummock hyaline irenic
joy’s journey justified agrarian juncture glorious resplendent kerygma kiddush lambent lentic lustrous meadow gowan melody
mercy’s merry missive munificent
neb noumenon numinous oleaginous
pastoral pedologic pomonogy radicate radiant glowing resplendent refulgent risible sciuroid sorrel sunglow susurrous swath sweetbay opulence auburn blazing veridal habdalah incalescence indwelling unction rivulose exuberant exultation tufa verdure verbena veracious virga virid vitreous Whitsuntide whooping crane windrow tilth wisteria crepe myrtle undulating shimmering gleaming glittering adjuration aeonian rife Paraclete
paralimnion sedulous seiche
optative operose tryst
Along the sabulous scarp, past slacktide’s shoal swash
where limicolines scurry and kingfishers swirl to outfall’s
terrigenous billows, littoral aestival visitors sit by terraces
watching piscatory scaphoid shadows sway, pitch and bob
in the neretic rote. A speck in the pelagic offing under the pluvial horizon imparts a masthead’s shivering sailcloth weltering in the surging send, seeking vesper’s landfall,
sanctum sanctorum, in the spindrift and roiling swell.
Thalassic’s great year ascribes and subsides. Nunc Dimittis
Where the righteous stand before that sparkling shore
And LOVE shines brilliantly, forevermore.
2/20/03
Wonderful Jesus
Camping out at the foot of the cross,
ministering to an audience of One;
my body curled up in a heap;
I was praying for my son
when drops of blood fell on my head
and He said, “It is done.”
Wonderful Jesus.
Standing beside old Jordan’s shore,
wondering how the waters will part;
like finding the key to freedom’s door
becomes a deepest matter of the heart;
as Spirit’s fire and ocean’s roar
are hidden in the nuclear core.
Wonderful Jesus.
3/16/03
Light Reveals Truth
in deep empty darkness
tiny specks traverse vacuous space
like quantum ships riding sine waves through
continental divides
to dawn bathing a solitary tree on a hill
singing holy music on the wind-swept plain:
whispering peaceful footsteps of Love
and a Voice like many waters.
4/21/03
The Forsaken (Matt. 27:46)
“How can pure Love allow evil to torture His children?” law asks God, not understanding how death waits silently, past anger
and giving up and all questions
for the answer.
Insurrection fuels the fires of hatred;
Resurrection fuels the fire of love
unquenchable; everlasting.
Burning Spirit within me,
overcome this world
and lead me to the throne of heaven
in Jesus’ name, amen.
4/22/03
Song of Songs Seven
The rent veil’s chamber pulses love’s
hushed heartbeat and sounds of breathing:
“Y- (inhale) H- (exhale) W- (inhale) H- (exhale)”
amidst the threshold’s soft glow and whispered
rustling wings, the day’s spent tally
and sundry unencumbered things
shed like cloaks upon the wooden floor.
Maturely she smiles and speaks of fields,
village inns and vineyards where children laugh
and dance in celebration of the feast
where grapes’ and pomegranates’ sweet
blossoms’ wafting fragrances mingle with
incense and mandrakes’ musk, and, like dawn’s
early light is promised and repeated
in the dusk, the psalms of praise
are hidden in the prophets’ prose.
5/10/03
THE LORD SAYS:
“YOU ARE DOING THINGS BACKWARDS!
WHEN WILL YOU TURN IT AROUND?
YOU ARE MAKING MY PEOPLE ENTER THE GATES WITH
WEEPING AND SUPPLICATION, INSTEAD OF SINGING AND REJOICING.
[Psalm 100] YOU HAVE MADE THEM THE SACRIFICE, WHEN YOU
SHOULD BE THE SACRIFICE. THE INNER COURT
IS FOR THE PRIESTS TO CRY OUT TO ME FOR SOULS. [Joel 2:12-32]
YOU ARE PRIVATELY REJOICING IN THEIR SPOIL, INSTEAD
OF POURING YOURSELVES OUT AS AN OFFERING TO THEM.
THEY ARE LIKE LOST SHEEP WHOM YOU ARE SLAUGHTERING.
REPENT AND BE RESTORED, OR BE CAST FROM MY SIGHT.
LET THE PEOPLE REJOICE AND LET THE EARTH BE GLAD!
LET THE JOY OF THE WATERS OF SALVATION BE OPENED!
LET THE WATER BE TURNED INTO WINE!
LET THOSE WHO WOULD PREPARE THEMSELVES TO ENTER
THE HOLY OF HOLIES BECOME MY DISCIPLES AND NO OTHERS’.
AS YOU BECOME HOLY, I WILL LET MY HOLY SPIRIT FLOW
THROUGH YOU TO TEACH THE NATIONS.
LET THE GOOD NEWS OF THE GOSPEL AGAIN BE HEARD.
LET MY PEOPLE REJOICE!”
6/21/0
An intercessory cry for help
LORD God, YHWH ADWNY, we cry out to You for help. We are in the depths, we have no strength left to endure, the waves have overwhelmed us. All of our efforts together cannot defeat the forces of darkness which have come against us. We look to You alone for our salvation and deliverance. Look upon us, hear and come to our aid, as You made the sun stand still for Joshua, and turned it back for Hezekiah. We have no hope except in You. Send Your angels, Your heavenly host, to stand with us and launch a counterattack against the enemy. We love You, and praise You, and give You all the glory, for Your Holy Spirit working in us and through us to overcome the world. In Jesus’ name, Yeshua Messiah, Amen.
8/5/03
“THE CROSS…” -from which all men run away
“ IS GLORIOUS,” says the LORD.
The huge, gleaming white cross
above the autumn-bannered mountains
is etched upon my soul;
yet, I feel its pain and burden
every moment, every day.
How can I understand this, my God, or explain it to others?
How is this the good gospel news
that transcends the world?
I need supernatural revelation.
I must have Your refined gold, white garments, and anointed
eye salve. I must see. I must have wisdom.
You must teach me how to LOVE.
Your suffering is my suffering, Jesus; Your joy and peace, mine also.
How can the world know?
What can I do or say
to bring them to You?
How can I, from poverty and illness, show them Your magnificent
LIGHT?
You have consumed me. There is nothing of myself left to give.
All my fountains are in You; all Your waves and billows
have washed over me.
How can I, from this death, proclaim Your eternal LIFE?
9/13/03
Victory Day
The grain is good.
The wine is sweet.
The oil glistens in the light.
But we bow to the Man
Who wears the crown of thorns.
By His blood
We cross the threshold
And enter the temple
Where the table is already set.
The candlesticks flicker softly.
The perfumed incense fills the room.
From the open inner door His face appears.
9/23/03
Surf and Spindrift; Gold and Glass
My God, I want to understand Your ways.
The enemy is viciously attacking, leaving Your people destitute.
Give me wisdom concerning our cross, and the resurrection glory
of Your kingdom.
The undertow, felt but unseen, draws us out, submissive in the churning sand,
to meet and mix with the insistent wave, cresting, towering in strength,
crashing on the glistening white shoreline.
The process is repeated, o’er and o’er, as our heartbeat:
a going out, a coming together.
How do we overcome in our humiliation?
We craft our answers, periwinkles and sandcastles.
We cry “Hosanna!” from the depths of our being.
Refined gold.
White garments.
Anointed oil to see.
I acknowledge the wave,
But I don’t know what to do.
How many times must I be broken and remade?
When I speak of unity, the sword divides;
when I gently try to correct, the swell comes against me.
Jesus, I want to agree with You
in the Holy Spirit.
I thank You for Your favor.
I unconditionally love You.
I most desperately need Your authority and power.
I try. I die. I rise up, and try again.
Love. Joy. Peace.
Grant me these in Your holy name,
and that I prosper and prevail as I join in
the infinite music of Your Word.
11/20/03
LIGHTNING BOLTS OF LIQUID LOVE
shoot through the darkened, coal-damp shaft
and dance on solemn, heavy grate
where solitary prisoners look above
at glints of hope from sullen pit
and wait for crumbs and drops of blood.
Molten magma, steam and ash
can barely surface and escape
in shouts of angry orange crates
and quaking, sweating buckboard plats
above the rooted, soil-gripped fear
where eyes are dim and dreams are near
in creaks and whispers of the night.
What Form is this Who enters now?
What awesome, royal Majesty
invades the ragged dynasty
of bleak and barren industry
to pull the bony, blackened slave
up from the miry, endless maze
and show him glorious azure skies
and give him keys to unlock doors
while trumpets blare and oceans roar?
11/23/03
DOOR OF HOPE
The joyful sound
REVERBERATES
and RESOUNDS
with REJOICING
when God’s people
line up with God’s Word.
The key of giving
leads to the threshold of commandments
of Jesus the Door.
The cross is the penalty
of the Law:
not to worship,
nor to measure up,
nor to stand beneath,
but to go through boldly.
The Door is open, not shut.
The pole is the plumb line:
there is our peace.
The beam is the measuring rod:
there is our joy.
The intersecting Heart of Love is
His cup of suffering
(from hallowed halls of reverent silence
and corridors of speechless grief );
His healing blood;
His heartbeat
sowing, reaping, sowing, reaping:
grain………wine………oil,
favor…..authority…..power,
goodness…mercy…grace.
The double portion
is forgiveness and repentance.
Forgiveness conquers anger.
Repentance conquers fear,
bringing us to Perfect Love.
He is our peace: breaking every wall.
He is our joy: our jubilee celebration.
“Pass through, pass through the gate!
Raise up, raise up the highway!”
Our Standard goes before us.
We will dance with total abandon at the marriage supper of the Lamb.
River of Joy
flood over me!
Fire of Peace
consume my being!
Unquenchable Love
embrace me forever!
Before the beginning God Is past all ending.
Matthew 5:17-20; Micah 6:8; Isaiah 28:16,17;
Deuteronomy 14:22-29; 26:12-15
11/30/03
Rainy December Morn
In the darkness
Love is poured forth
like kisses on eyelids
puddle patters
and the sweet aroma
of Your breath
forming rivulets on the thirsty ground
uniting formal covenants
with latent revelation
of rivers of everlasting pleasure
flowing from Your throne.
I am Your own.
You embrace me tightly
as if You will never let me go
fulfilling most holy vows
of infinite worth
beyond the hot sunny days
to mature fires
of our hearts beating together
past all institutional learning
to the sanctuary of Shalom.
I Am your own.
12/14/03
SWORD OF LIGHT
divide the dead void
of ignorant men
from the warmth
of Your compassion.
Let them view the flames with fear
from outer emptiness
as they sneer and jeer in hate
at the loveliness of Your conception.
Let their cold bitter hearts
be removed from the laughter
of the joy of Your strength
and the peacefulness of Your celebration.
Let them howl with envy
at the sign of Your favor
unto Your faithful ones
until they repent
and rejoice in Your circumnavigation.
12/14/03
The Engagement
The Spirit came to the Father and said, “It is time for Me to take a bride, as You married four thousand years ago, and Jesus married two thousand years ago.”
The Father said, “Yes, it is time. What kind of bride would You like?”
The Spirit said, “First I must tell You what kind of bride I don’t want. Your wife was very young and rebellious, and it took You a long time to teach her proper etiquette, and how to be a good hostess. She would try to please You for awhile, but would quickly fall back into her old patterns, neglecting her duties. Finally, You divorced her, and it really shook her up, until You took her back. After that, she began really trying to follow Your rules, but focused so much on them that You are no longer really intimate. So, I would say that she learned to honor and obey You, but never really learned to love You.”
Jesus said, “Well, then, You want a wife like Mine.”
The Spirit answered, “Well, not exactly. You see, Your wife was really impressed with Your willingness to do things for her, even die for her, but used Your love as a license to do as she pleases. She is selfish and uncaring of others, and sometimes very haughty and mean. She likes to dress to the hilt and parade around Your pews as Your chosen one; she hogs all the attention for herself, and never lets anyone else join in the conversation. So, I would say that she learned to love You, but never to honor or obey You.”
Jesus said, “You want a bride that will truly love, honor, and obey You. What other qualities should we look for as we help You look?”
The Spirit said, “I want someone who is truly devoted to Me, who loves Me with all her heart, and will never even think of leaving Me no matter how tough things get. I want her to be happy and joyful morning and evening, singing and dancing around the house
with psalms of praise and gladness. I want her to be peaceful and submissive, willing to follow Me wherever I go, without complaining or debate. I especially want her to be
genuine, not playing games with Me or putting on some performance.”
The Spirit continued, “I want her to be thankful of the presents I give her, asking for more in My zeal, but not demanding more for herself alone. I want her to laugh with joy,
rejoicing in giving, constantly setting aside a portion for the poor, as You, Father, commanded Your wife to do in a storehouse long ago. I want my wife to understand that sacrifice and blessing work hand in hand, and that all our children receive equal love and attention, sharing with each other, and not competing against each other, trying to hoard all the gifts for themselves.”
The Father and Jesus agreed, and said, “We will help you look for this bride, wherever she may be found. You have Our full support, for this is the bride We also wanted.”
12/20/03
Speaking Truth In Love
Doubting Thomas had to know for himself: to see, hear,
and touch our resurrected Lord. How can we judge
what we so desperately need ourselves?
Beautiful words may flow from my lips
without coming from my heart- flattery, deceit, lies. We frame
our pictures of where we are not, standing statues on pedestals,
wrapped up on stage in shiny boxes.
I may pledge allegiance to symbols of power without
knowing love- without knowing Love. What do I gain?
Perhaps all the money, beauty, and fame the world can offer?
Is that enough? Will my soul be satisfied?
Empty words fall to the ground in sorrow and solitude.
Why couldn’t you do what you said?
Where is that covenant we made together?
