Rage of the Age

Rage of the Age

The rage of all previous ages,

Once loomed to become the disjointed music of that age.

For many it became the chords of a dividing crescendo,

That languished to become for us a saving adagio!

From glorious Gethsemane to a churlish Calvary,

Was heard a howl of fury,

Echoing around the Holy City of Jerusalem!

But listen, He who suffered pain and mayhem,

Is today Saviour and Master.

Sadly the rage of that savage age,

Still invades our world with pseudo prestige.

Once visible within the broken mirror of that Good Friday,

Was the piercing spear of a soldier.

And the plea of the good thief on that darkened day.

But what of the plight of the Jewish heart?

That to is embroidered within silken robes that offered betrayal as an abiding art.

So dear friend

Seek not

The rock of Ages,

The Jazz age,

The Age of Enlightenment,

The Age of Anxiety,

Or any other Age!

But remember the rage of that past age,

Has become for all of us the smouldering shame,



September 2004

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