
Scattered among the nations,
Not one spared through the generations,
And still, despite the corrections,
Hearts remain away in their formations.
And in false hope, with jubilations,
How near is Jerusalem’s redemption!
Vessels will be back,
There shall we return, our stuff on our backs.
Camels, dogs, sheep and ducks!
Ala! But the good news he lacks.
Of siege and destruction he makes marks,
Bricks, hairs, winds and stacks.
Has he really seen the glory?
Of wheels with eyes, the story?
Wings, man, ox, eagle, lion in memory?
Three hundred and ninety days of lying, and forty?
Could it be a trumpet calling us to be sorry?
But the warning is so gory!
The delight of his eyes is gone,
But no tear from his eyes is drawn.
He mourns not, even upon dawn;
Not touching the mourning bread, He continues on
What could the Maker have on this pawn?
Rejected, abandoned, a despised fawn.
Here comes the messenger, bearing the news,
Of Jerusalem and the temple, he brings a view.
In ruins and ashes, with no rescue,
A proof of the pawn’s words being true.
Indeed, no hope for us, a wicked crew;
To despair, our souls we glue.
The temple’s glory has indeed left;
Women for Tammuz wept.
Idols in His sanctuary were kept;
Elders in chambers of idolatry crept.
To the rising sun they bowed and slept;
Yes, He had a right to have it swept!
Scattered and lost are we sheep,
With no shepherd, we leap and weep.
A pile of rubbish, a heap,
Shall we be destroyed, our walk with Him so steep?
Who shall shepherd us, lest we forever sleep?
From the many nations, My sheep I’ll bring,
Judah and Israel, like sticks, I’ll cling.
And to them, from David, I’ll give a King;
With My Spirit in them, they shall sing.
With a heart of flesh, from stone shall they spring;
Not by their deeds, but My name shall ring.
From dry bones, life shall grow;
In My new temple, My glory shall glow.
Away from sin and evil you shall go;
A river of life, love and hope shall flow.
Ooh, it’s grace, not deeds, you shall know;
In obedience you shall dwell, never to forego.
~Rinasco

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