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

The younger ones hold me in scorn,
Whose fathers I didn’t treat like dogs;
To me, they were so weak and torn,
And destitute, greedy like hogs!

Much hunger seemed to be their lot;
They fled to parched waste-lands for food;
They plucked saltwort and roots that rot;
Like banished thieving men, they stood.

They lived in caves of sand and stone,
Amongst bushes, they stood alone,
And dwelt atop the slopes of hills,
Huddled together ’midst nettles.

Out of their lands, all driven out,
They were such men, a name without;
They mock at me now endlessly;
They hurt so very ruthlessly.

They abhor me and stand aloof;
They were once men without a roof;
They even spit upon my face;
They scheme to fully me erase.

Their bonds are loosened much indeed;
They do not care about my need;
They’ve thrown away their restraint fast;
They look at me with eyes downcast.

Amidst the noise, they come like waves,
They frighten me with ranting raves;
My dignity’s gone with the wind;
My welfare vanished like a cloud.

My frame has no rest although night;
Pitiless stays my awful plight;
By clothes, a mighty one holds me;
By collar, next seizes roughly.

I’m cast in mire in panic;
I wear a muddied, torn tunic;
My cries to you are not answered;
With your strong hand, you batter me.

By tempest, I am tossed about;
Thrown to the winds, I cry and shout;
Away from me, ebbs my dear soul;
To voice my grief is my sad role.

Should not someone stretch out a hand,
To help a man in danger cast?
Have I not grieved for souls of land
Or wept for others’ hardships past?

I search for good but evil calls;
I look for light but darkness falls;
My harp is playing mournful tunes;
My reed is singing ’midst sand-dunes.

I roam brother-like to jackals;
I walk along with ostriches;
The sun scorches my weary frame;
For my misery, who’ll take blame?