The Gardener

A Theology Poem

Photo by Mihai 👑 on Unsplash

Hey, everyone, welcome back to The Fathoms! Today, instead of a study of Ecclesiastes, I will be sharing a poem that involves theology found in Ecclesiastes. Specifically, the theology of how evil can exist in a world created by a good God.

Enjoy!

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- The Gardener -

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Death paid a visit to a withered Dame

and asked her by what light and in what name

she scattered her seeds on the garden plot

and this is the answer the asker got:

"I sow by the moon, for its light is soft,

and I plant by the Lord, for He giveth oft,

but I swear by them not, for the moon shan't reign

and I dare not take my King's name in vain."



In a crooked way, for the truth did Death yearn,

and so he, for his part, asked a question in turn:

"If that's true, my dear Dame, tell me, who do you bless

when you sniff a crisp rose and feel joy in your chest?"

"Why, the Lord," said the Dame, "for He made the rose grow."

"Yes, I see," murmured Death. "But this, still, I must know:

When you fondle the rose and its thorn pricks your hand,

tell me---who do you curse? Who do you damn?"



She laughed in Death's face, for his question was brash,

and the words she spoke next were as sharp as a lash:

"Foolish fiend! See you not that the curse is for you?

I can curse not the Lord, for His kindness is true."

"Silly mortal!" Death spat. "Your conscience is torn,

for the God of the rose is the God of the thorn!

If you bless Him for love, you must curse Him for hate.

He crafted them both; He's the King of your fate!"



But the Dame simply smiled. Death was woefully blind,

and the truth was far deeper than words, he would find.

"Take a moment," said she, "and consider your task.

Did you come here to reap, or with questions to ask?"

"To reap," answered Death. "That's the point of this blade."

"Incorrect," said the Dame. "Now your lies are betrayed.

For the Lord made your scythe with no conscience or heart;

'tis a tool, its sole purpose to split things apart.

Your blade would be perfect for harvesting grain,

but you use it for murder and piling the slain.

So the same is a rose---neither harmful nor kind.

The way that it's used is the way it's defined."

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Thank you for reading! What do you think of the poem? Do you agree or disagree? Let me know!!!

Til next time…