Bible Stories: Job (Chapter Xxiv) Poem by Dr John Celes

Job Continues:

Why God doesn’t set time-frames for all?
Why friends can’t see a man’s sad days?

Wicked erase every landmark;
They steal the herds of other men;
They drive away orphan’s asses;
The needy can’t walk on a road;
Widow’s pledged ox is stolen too.

They drive the poor into hiding
Like desert asses, seeking food;
The Steppe provides food for their young;
They harvest untilled lands at night.

They have no clothes against the cold;
They’re drenched by heavy mountain-rains;
They cling to rocks without shelter;
They press the oil out between rows.

They glean the vineyards of wicked;
They tread wine-presses but have thirst;
They carry sheaves but look famished;
With naked bodies, they pass nights.

The dying groan in dust with pain;
The souls of wounded cry to God;
When darkness falls, the poor get killed
By murderers who abhor light.

Adulterers await twilight;
‘No eye sees me! ’ is what they say;
The thief awaits the night’s onset,
And wears a mask to roam and loot.

In dark, they break into houses,
And shut themselves when comes the dawn;
To them, the day is dark like night;
Their land is accursed to the core;
Like wood, God splinters wickedness!

God assures safety and support;
He sustains mighty by His strength,
And watches over all their ways;
Exalted for awhile, they’re gone
Like ears of grain, that’s shriveled, dry!

This is the truth and what happens!
Who brings my arguments to naught?


(5-6-2007)