Amongst my friends there is a little debacle going on regarding theology and poetry. Should we consider poets soft and tenderly calling out to unrequieted love? Or can there be, as William Wallace (or at least Gibson’s portrayal) declared, “warrior poets”? I vote for the latter.

Here is a poem I wrote. I would love to make it into a song. If anyone would like to have a go at it, send me an mp3 and we can go from there. I am also open to revisions. Here goes:

Right Hand of Pow’r

Blood poured forth from Thy brow
From the darkness flooding light
Brought me to Thy great pow’r
Blinded man giv’n grace by sight
It has covered the foulest blight

He pleads for us
At great cost
Perfect One
Right hand of Pow’r

Tomb empty and set free
Wicked men who loved their sin
That great stone ne’er hold me
Crushed by Thy voice Satan cringed
Peace and joy now the offering

Ascension hill sent out
My quiv’ring lips strengthened now
Authority endowed
On clay pots and stamm’ring tongue
It lifts up hands and conquers done

Clouds he rides as chariot
Sword in mouth vanquish foe
Justice and peace won for us
Righteousness rolls down from Christ
It covers the earth and the sea