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The Hunter Of Heaven
Author: M B J Pancras

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Ruby and gold teach me rainbow pleasures,
Sapphire and Emerald glittering catch my Keatsian eyes,
And the rainbow colours are my treasures,
Diamonds on the summit of the world hold my Grecian heart:
“How bright and brilliant is the rainbow!
Is it for me? Let me dissolve in it.”
The arrow of the bow aims at my trough,
I ought to be the Hunter’s possession.
The nightingale strokes me with lullaby,
The note of the cuckoo fills my sweet soul,
The woodpecker’s sound gives me a great sigh:
“Let my soul be fondled by the flaps of their wings,
And my world shall be a realm of music,
For music is the life of the oppressed.”

I let my feet climb up the great towers,
There I would sit and watch the dancing clouds,
The moisture in the clouds shall be rivers,
Which make my soul cool and pleasant:
“How great am I, and they are small to me,
Let me fiddle the strings of my wit,
For they are the source of humour and glee.”
The Hunter’s aim is fixed and firm on me,
For He never likes to lose my soul,
But He has not laid any net for me.
I hide myself behind trunks of a tree,
And I count the leaves of the branches:
“My count of the leaves shall say of my moments on earth
Yet, I let myself read the books of the world.”

“I created thee in My Image, so thou art Mine,
What I did for thee that thou forget My Love?
Thou set thy disbelief on the traitor,
I AM not the beast which devours thee in the forest.
Thou laid a crown of sins on My Son’s Head,
Thy sins scourged My Son that He shed His Blood,
Thy sins raised Him on the Cross
And He cried unto Me: “Why hast Thou forsaken Me?”
I forsook Him for thee that thou shalt reach Me.”
I hear the Voice of the Hunter thundering softy into my soul,
I shake the dirt on me and walked towards the hunter,
Still the bow and the arrow held tight in his hand,
The arrow’s aim is still at me,
I learn the hunter’s aim is not a trap, but a loving cage.

Neither ruby nor gold is seen around me then,
No sapphire, no emerald scattered with their radiance,
Not the rainbow of pleasures but of Divine Love.
“Peace is within with no worldly ornaments,
There is an unseen Arm of Comfort around my soul.”
I hear a Voice within: “Come unto Me,
Mortal is thy life on earth; a tenant for a while.
The earth offers charm and delight with its business,
But all that they have the provoking outcomes.
The Intruder who lost the Heavenly Glory
And the Heavenly Abode is the ruler of the age.”
I take His Word and walk with the two-edged sword,
I count my moments against the world of time
And my way is through thorns and thistles.

------- Author's Notes -------

(This verse (in irregular ode form) is written with the inspiration of Francis Thompson’s ‘The Hound of Heaven’.) It is my simple attempt.

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