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

Is life on earth for man, not drudgery?
Are not his days like that of hirelings?
He is a servant longing for shadow,
A hireling awaiting his wages.

I have been assigned months of misery,
And weary troubling nights wait to seize me.
And when in bed, I ask when shall I rise?
I toss in bed restless until the dawn.

My flesh is clothed by worms, scabs, cracks, festers;
My skin is broken and turned loathsome; .
My days are swifter than weaver’s shuttle,
And seem to end each day, without much hope;

My life is wind-like, without happiness;
The eye of him that saw me sees me not;
Thine eyes are upon me but mine are not.

Like how a cloud will vanish right away,
The one, who goes to grave, will not return.
No more shall he return to his own house;
His place shall neither know him anymore.

Hence, I’ll not stop my mouth from utterance;
I’ll speak my spirit’s anguish wholly out;
I will complain in my soul’s bitterness.

Am I a sea or whale that you watch me?
Why then am I, an object of attack?
My bed shall comfort me, when I shall say,
My couch shall ease my complaints all, when told.

Your dreams and visions terrify me lot;
I prefer death by choking than my pains;
I waste away knowing, I can’t live long;
Set me in solitude, my life is short;
Oh, what is man, you pay him any heed?

Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-27-2007