My friend Burl Horniachek wrote the following poem, inspired in part by Echoes of Exodus. He kindly gave me permission to share it with you all.
God was sent from the garden land
To tread our cursed loam,
Where, under the threat of a pharaoh’s hand,
He made his newfound home.
Made to lie in in a basket frail,
Surrounded by a flood
Of cosmic powers that would prevail
Against his holy blood.
Grown, he climbed upon the mount
To promulgate a law
To which he soon would give account
Though being without flaw.
Alas, alas the time then came
When God to God must serve
The utmost dish of death and shame.
He ate those bitter herbs.
God went down to death’s dark womb
To rescue those who died
With all the joy of a tender groom
New catching up his bride.
Now blood is smeared on hell’s dark doors
And hell itself gives birth
And out pour all the many scores
Of saints beneath the earth
The mighty rod of Calvary
Bears down upon the rim
And splits that elemental sea
From brim to darkling brim.
Between the walls of endless strife
He leads those slaves of sin
Now loaded with eternal life
Up to the very chin.
The finest trick on death was played;
Hell’s pharaoh was despoiled;
The dragon’s lust for bloody trade
Upon himself recoiled.
God gathers up these treasures
There to his father’s side,
Singing in sweetest measures:
“It was for these I died”
Man cannot trust in upright deeds;
He only can adhere
To the sign of the lamb that ever bleeds
Above his household door.
All teaches us that he who serves
Is he who is made free,
For only a slave of eternal love
Could conquer from that tree.
Burl Horniachek is a writer and teacher living near Winnipeg, Manitoba. He has a degree in Ancient Near Eastern Studies (Ancient Israel) from the University of Toronto and studied creative writing with Nobel laureate Derek Walcott at the University of Alberta.