It sounds awkward, but one of the most meaningful poems I know is one I created myself, because in it I recall how our son Jordan entered eternal life when he was a mere nineteen months old. The final poem in my book Through a Child's Eyes and twenty-two stanzas of iambic pentameter, it displays how sweet little Jordan went from one dream to another, straight into the arms of Christ.
Without further ado, here is "Jesus (The Final Epic)".
Jesus (The Final Epic)
On mattress all familiar now I lie.
The beam so soft from outside comes within
And pierces darkness deep. A shaft of light
Now beckons to recall that in the midst
Of life, there is a certain hope for me.
Wherefore this beauteous sight I cannot tell.
It seems to mingle with a call divine.
Is darkness coming, and, if so, will I
Be sure that thus beyond the shadow’s gloom
I surely find delight that God is there?
So sleep a little bit, I tell myself,
And wake again when light invades the room.
The heaviness upon my eyelids pressed
Will gently wrestle me to slumber’s bay
And once again I’ll wake to morning bliss.
The dream begins, and there I find myself
Crawling thro’ meadow warm and floral spray,
And through the loamy soil I come upon
A flowing river lapping o’er its shore
Upon which sturdy boat I spy alone.
And then this wildest epic takes new form:
I clamber toward the small conveyance here
And, scrambling over side onto its deck,
Discover strength not previous known before
As this adventure takes a strange new turn.
At first a whisper soft speaks o’er the waves
Before the boat dislodges from its roots.
No oars are needed to glide swiftly on,
For far away the drawing point reveals
Itself—a voice that’s calling out my name.
Onward the river moves in powered calm.
The peaceful torrent flows within my dream;
Upward it climbs to raging waterfall
That flows reversedly to higher ground
Of forests verdant green on mountainside.
With instinct charged I bolt from here in haste.
Renewed in spirit now I sprint headlong,
And, clutching in my hand both spear and sword,
Toward higher elevation I plunge on
To seek who far off grandly calls my name.
I seek a bold adventure, lordly gain,
I sense a battle for my body’s health.
With courage I, prepared for struggle great,
Fly over fertile ground with swiftest feet,
Yet knowing not if this be heav’n or earth.
And then from forest thick my little form
Tumbles into a clearing bathed with light,
Where stunned (my eyes can scarcely take it in),
I see the genesis of sacred voice
That draws me, sweetly calling forth my name.
Lion of Judah, Citadel of Grace,
He speaks my name, not his, but his I know:
The King of Kings, Messiah, Lamb of God,
Redeemer, Son of David, Prince of Peace,
And ‘round him there a crystal fountain flows.
With quizz’cal look I glance upon his brow
And gaze upon that skin once torn by thorns
Before I lock my eyes upon his wrists
And side where holy gashes bore so long
Ago the sin he washed away from me.
With trembling voice I ask him, ‘Where am I?’
And broad the smile expands upon his face
As Jesus says, “My son, throw down your spear
And sword—They’re needed not within your home.”
To which I make reply, "What is this place?"
In thund’rous laughter loud Jesus calls out
The truth: “Why, little Jordan Christopher,
You’ve reached my Sacred Mountain’s summit high
And in my Holy City evermore
You’ll live—For I’ve made you completely new.”
So with one final earthly heartbeat more,
I throw aside forever spear and sword.
And to my family on earth I give
One final whispered gracious soft farewell,
And pounce to take a leap for which I’ve longed.
The power surges deep within my veins
As all my muscles move with apexed might
To bound thro’ heav’n’s sweet air, and tackling thus
My dear Good Shepherd, sending with a laugh
Us both into the Fountain’s roaring foam!
With holy scream I throw my head far back,
And smiling ever widely I shout out:
‘This, my eternal home! This is the place
For which I’ve longed and sought forevermore,
Although I knew it not for all my life!’
My Savior’s nail-scarred hands encircle me
And lift me out from there with splashes fresh.
He looks within me deep, a blessing great
Before he wraps me in his arms so tight
And turns into the City’s entry path.
Around us there explodes a tumult great
Of angels, saints, and martyrs bringing me
Into the city with triumphant song,
And there forevermore my home shall be,
And where one day, I’ll join my family.
Yet deep in Heaven’s din I clear perceive
My great Redeemer’s voice within my ear.
The saintly roars all strangely fade away
And unmistakably his whispers dear
Bless my initial entry to my home.
“My little Jordan Christopher,” he says
“How long I’ve waited for this special day,
For you to enter your inheritance
And all encumbrances be thrown away,
So everlasting joys will now be yours.”
“You are my little soldier, my brave soul,
And I am your Commander holding fast
To bear you to my Father’s throne, where you
Will have eternal joy and peace at last.
You’ll have eternal joy and peace at last.”