Shiloh   22 comments

By Tim Shey

Brutal deathdance;
My eyes weep blood.
Pharisees smile like vipers,
They laugh and mock their venom:
Blind snakes leading
The deaf and dumb multitude.

Where are my friends?
The landscape is dry and desolate.
They have stretched my shredded body
On this humiliating tree.

The hands that healed
And the feet that brought good news
They have pierced
With their fierce hatred.

The man-made whip
That opened up my back
Preaches from a proper pulpit.
They sit in comfort:
That vacant-eyed congregation.
The respected, demon-possessed reverend
Forks his tongue
Scratching itchy ears
While Cain bludgeons
Abel into silence.

My flesh in tattered pieces
Clots red and cold and sticks
To the rough-hewn timber
That props up my limp, vertical carcase
Between heaven and earth.
My life drips and puddles
Below my feet,
As I gaze down dizzily
On merciless eyes and dagger teeth.

The chapter-and-versed wolves
Jeer and taunt me.
Their sheepwool clothing
Is stained black with the furious violence
Of their heart of stone.
They worship me in lip service,
But I confess,
I never knew them
(Though they are my creation).

My tongue tastes like ashes:
It sticks to the roof of my mouth.
I am so thirsty.
This famine is too much for me.
The bulls of Bashan have bled me white.
Papa, into your hands
I commend my Spirit.

February/March 1997
Iowa State University

Genesis 49: 10: “The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet until Shiloh come; and unto him shall the gathering of the people be.”

A Prophet’s Eyes
The Passion of the Christ
Psalm 22
Standing at the Altar
A Prophetess from Minnesota
New Jerusalem and New Shiloh
Obedience:  The Bondage Breaker
Pilate’s Report on the Arrest, Trial and Crucifixion of Jesus
Warning to American Pastors
Broken Bread, Poured Out Wine

To the True and Everlasting Shiloh
Hymne to God the Father
Wisdom of the Ages

22 responses to “Shiloh

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  5. That was Great!

  6. Thank you, Aidan.

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  11. Wow…

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  16. Beautiful poem brother. Thanks for this meditation on the cross and the work of Christ.

    • Thank you. This poem was dictated to me by the Holy Ghost back in 1996. Many times in my life, the Holy Ghost has inspired me to do something or say something or write something, but this poem was dictated to me. This is the only time in my life (as far as I can remember) that the Holy Ghost has ever dictated something to me.

      Psalm 45: 1: “I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.”

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