Small Concerns

H, LORD, flood lifeblood all the Way to Rome,

To kingdom heart from knightly catacomb.

With growing words, the world feels change of wind.

Jerusalem grows large with those who’d sinned

Then, sorry, saw the light of Christ, the Lord.

But little troubles this world fast affords:

As Peter, preaching truth, was drawn aside

Of widow’s meals matter to decide.

Together band those true and calléd twelve

They turn direct to God and prayerful delve.

Sincerely in their hearts, the Lord proclaimed.

So found they truth that seven should be named

To take the tasks of day to day direction

While ’postles preach the joyful resurrection

Where naught was in the way. So twelve gave call

And seven answered, asked to answer all.

Apostle Peter breathes, “I’ll be concise 

And true as I report your enterprise.

Avoid the thought of first or last: you’re both.

You serve the slighter needs, allowing growth

As careful pruning leads to growth of vine

So, every act helps pour the living wine.”

All seven instant loved their Royal work

And Stephen, special, preached to king and clerk.

Stephen, Bright Deacon

HE name of Christ was Stephen’s living breath

And all his works and way put sin to death.

By joyful Spirit blazing from within

Were multitudes awayed from shade and sin.

The Pharisees who heard turned violent

And lashed against him whipping argument,

Which Holy God with Stephen’s breath refutes.

Unholy men thus turn to host of brutes

Who lie to the Sanhedrin, so to try

The honest Stephen and to justify,

“This man assaults the temple with his word!

He spokes of its destruction, and assured

The people of a death of Moses’ Law.”

The Sadducees brought Stephen there, and saw

His features, Moses-like, as angels, gleam.

“These men bring charges that you do blaspheme.”

St. Stephen's Old Testament Sermon

O which responded Stephen, “Brothers, hear!

Our God instructed Abraham sincere

To faith. He promised circumcision, son,

And generations more, and all was done.

And He gave Isaac Jacob, quick in craft

And he, our dozen patriarchs, so daft

They turned their hearts against their own of kin,

Good Joseph, for whom God proved sovereign,

Sustaining him through force and famine cruel

And through him, saving Egypt by his rule.

And when we felt fell Pharaoh’s forceful hand,

He sent us Moses, freedom, and command.

Yet, Israel rejected Him at last

And first. Through wilderness they, feeding, fast

And take no heed of Law.  And still they bore

A tabernacle housing God, and stored

Their hearts down deep and hard, while carrying

A throne outside, not trusting full their king.

Then, they prepared a temple to contain

Their Lord who heaven’s breadth cannot attain.

Remember now the Lord enthroned above

Who through the generations ruled with love!

No house will hold, save one that you refuse.

Withhold your hearts no longer, chosen Jews!

Against the Law and temple, if I speak,

Yet you do live against them both and seek

Not truth in life. For, those whom God has sent,

You have devoured, disobedient,

Each single prophet, even unto Son

Of God, Himself: respect for God outdone

By praise to temple. You begrudge His due

Sublimity, and make Him small in view.”

The First Martyr

ISE Gamaliel this day is not with them.

“Now, he speaks ’gainst temple!” they condemn.

They gnash their teeth and rage their senses glaze.

As Stephen’s face had glown before, it blazed.

He peers into the sky as it reveals

And there, declares with David.  “Hea’en unseals!

The Father, and the Son who stands beside!”

The words breathed out and never joy did hide. 

So far was he from earth, he scarcely felt 

The gripping hands.  Though frenzied roars were dealt,

Still naught could tear him from enraptured sense.

They dragged him from the city, cast him thence.

Stony Hearts

EHIND, the vicious comp’ny ne’er withdraw

Both standers-by and students of the Law

Including Saul, well known the temple round

As Gamiliel’s pupil most profound.

This Pharisee of Pharisees stands guard.

About him hang the robes of rebels, scarred

Within their hearts, now rushing forth to make

A martyr with the stones they ought to take

From their own hardened breasts.  Near, Saul stands guard

Against the stone which Stephen flung so hard

Into Saul’s heart by saintly words that brim

With pow’r beyond their pow'r.  It winded him.  

As Stephen’s final breaths and dying call

Plead God’s forgiveness, even unto Saul, 

Hard hearts accept it not, like rocky earth.

The sun is set. The blazing fire’s dearth

Leaves only silhouette of Saul, disguised

By shadow, hid from light which would yet rise

On opposite skyline to light his shape.

He leaves that hill encumbered with the cape

Of Pharisees. Until that day, the way 

From temple to the place of saintly stay

Had not grown cold, but persecution sped 

T’Judea and Samaria, to spread

The church, whose growth Saul sought to lash

By hunting down the pious, unabashed. 

Saul dragged from homes and cast men into jail, 

E’er pressed to push away dead Stephen’s tale.

Yet, he seems doomed to only spread it far

Into the world and deep into his heart.

For all he tore at cross, it tore more wild 

Within himself, and sought to make him child.

AMARIA sustained a sorcerer

Whose hands incredible displays confer

And startling wonders fore the laymen’s view.

This Simon all the thoughts of men imbue

Divine, or nearly so, and he agrees.

Such numbers flocked to see those darkened deeds,

That when one summer morning brought too few,

He, startled, questions where they have gone to,

And answer thus receives, “In town a man

Whose name is Philip recently began

Expelling demons, healing, like to these

And wonders more.”  And Simon sought to see

These manly works to bend them to his use.

Simon Meets Philip

ND, going forth this magic to peruse, 

He finds his city happy past recall

Who once had been oppressed and breathless, all.


He listens to this discourse cutting true

Which from Philip’s faithful lips issues.

Now, Simon begs the baptism of light,

Since he believes (though not in words but sight),

And covets strength of healing Philip did,

Not glancing past the hands where heaven bid.

St. Peter and St. John in Samaria

AMARIA calls Jesus Christ their King.

When John and Peter heard, they hea'nly sing,

“Oh, Lord, flood lifeblood all the Way to Rome,

To kingdom heart from knightly catacomb!”

They journey to Samaria for prayer

And feast or fast for joy or woe found there.

There they find joy and Holy Spirit’s art,

And, laying on their hands, let prayers impart

Upon their hea’n-blessed fellows Spirit’s fire,

And all can breath with humble hearts entire.

Such wonders filled the town this holy way.

"I Will Pay"

UT Simon sought much lower, “I will pay

Whate’er petition you for po’er like yours.”

Such vain request the Spirit so abhors,

The gracious gift of God reduced to cash

And currency, Peter cries, “Unholy thrash

The name of God to think His highest gifts

For purchase fit, as if a coin you lift

To God obliges He who metals made

To miracles on your behalf!”  He bade

This Simon to repent and turn from greed.

The stunnéd sorcerer gave th’warning heed

And, grabbing Peter, begged him, “Pray for me!”

In days to follow, money he could see

To be a feeble thing in light of God

So true repentance came to worldly fraud.

Another Simon, Peter, stayed with John

And taught with bright sincerity along

Samaria, its villages and towns,

And, praising God for all, spread His renown,

Returning to Jerusalem as last,

While from that place another, hopeless, passed.

In which Philip Baptizes the Ethiopian

Understanding the Law and Prophets

EPARTING discontent from place of peace

Where he had come, devout, to holy feast

Digressed a eunuch Ethiopian

Impressed with reverent fear of Lord of ban

And bounty, Law and love, who scornéd sin 

And welcomed wanderers again within

Embrace of ’ternal God.  Lost heart in him

Like wand’ring, journeyed to Jerusalem

To worship at the temple of the Lord.

While questing back to queen, the man explored

The Scriptures written long ago by those

Who heard from God.  He sees their truth enclosed,

But finds frustration fills his consciousness

As connotation curbs intelligence.

His sighing breathed a prayer unto the wind:

That he might not miss the myst’ries sovereign,

Prophetic words of old, by ancients penned.

An Interloper

“HAT you are reading, do you comprehend?”

Thus spoke a voice he did not recognize

(Our Philip, Spirit-borne t’evangelize.)

The eunuch answered true, “Who could conceive

Without an explanation?  Or perceive

The nature of this sheep to slaughter led?”

To which our Philip breathed, “The Lord has said

That Israel should be immortalized

By King eternal, called Messiah, Christ.

And He has come, and all men should rejoice,

Yet Jews rejected Him with fatal voice.

But Christ flows lifeblood all the Way to Rome,

To kingdom heart from knightly catacomb.”

And Philip told th’enraptured man the tale

Of Jesus’s love and cross and tearing veil

And baptism of grace for all the saints.

The Ethiopian's Faith

’ERFLOWING now with faith without constraint

To feeble faculties of thought, he breathed,

“Oh, Days —Arrive! Fill up, and overflow!

For long have you usurpéd been to woe.

Oh this, Oh this, I’ve longed for, having seethed

With blazing fire within and seeking light!

Now hope is in my soul and lake in sight!

Let me not live unbaptized anymore!”

He leaps from halting caravan to soar

Unto the lake while Philip follows fast

To baptize he who went so long downcast.

He dips him down beneath the passing drench

And lifts him up where thirst for air is quenched.

Yet Philip played no part in eunuch’s rise.

For when the man breathed deep, he realized

That flesh and bone of Philip disappeared

Though baptizing Redeemer still adhered.

Rejoicing in a life and heart born new,

He travels home, where he could hope imbue

To other hearts, alike, which God pursue.

In Which Saul the Persecutor Meets His Foe on the Road to Damascus

THE GATES ARE OPENED

Saul, the Persecutor

AUL’S unyielding wrath against the church

Saw need to leave Jerusalem to search

For Christ’s combatants for, since stoning day,

His soul was so diseased, he thought the way

To cure the blood came from as earthly fight.

For this, he asked the high priest that he might 

Inspect Damascus, harrow out, and purge.

So Caiaphas, low king, consents with urge, 

Well pleaséd with the plan.  But men o’erhear:

So, Damascene believers pale with fear 

Of looming trip, for Saul had forced them out

So far.  They organized that they, devout,

Should pray at every chance that rapid foe

Of God should meet some justice on the road:

That God might decimate the wolf before

It mauled the sheep.  Thus, cruel, cold Saul set forth

Toward these prayers; external, full-assured.

Within, his frosted heart sometime endured

The martial burden ’gainst his inmost soul.

Saul's Prayer

E nearly cried into the wind,  “Who stole

The joy I ought to bear in godly robe?

In bounty, why sing I the song of Job?

Good days, arrive, fill up, and overflow

For long have I usurped been by woe!”

Without a warning, brilliant light then blazed 

Before stunned Saul, commanding heart and gaze,

A voice o’erthrew him, rang as steel unsheathed:

“Saul, what is this that you have done?” Saul breathed:

“Who are You, Lord of light and heaven?”

                        "I

Am Jesus Christ, anointed, who you try

To persecute, and I am God and One.

Now, Saul, saved soul: inbreath and rise and run

Unto Damascus, whence I shall instruct.”

The sounding fades and Saul lays, sense obstruct

By burning, madly beating heart.  At length,

He realized the glor’ous light’s great strength

And that his sight beneath the brilliant light 

Had turned to blindness.  Broken, full contrite,

His heart was grieved within, for all he’d feared,

Yet known within since Stephen’s truth had seared

Now burned his mind and heart and soul.  His sight

Still gone, he asked if near remained the light.  

Blindly to Damascus

HE traveling men then aided solemn Saul,

Resuming journ. Though inward drinking gall

In brokenness, Saul would not eat nor drink

And barely slept. He’d come himself to think

Unworthy, yet he let a prayer alight 

In th’gentle trav’ling breeze, in hope he might

But know this Christ, and turn away from wrath.

In town Damascus, sad Saul took Straighter paths.

Three days, he suffered sightless pangs of guilt, 

Residing in a house some Judas built.

A Welcome Evangelist

UT, days arrive, fill up, and overflow,

For saints won't always be usurped by woe.

At last, a trembling knock pursues footfall

Unto his door.  Up sat the blinded Saul.

No visitors had come,  “New countryman?”

Asks Ananias, of the godly clan.

“The true King Christ, who on the road you viewed

Has sent me that your sight might be renewed. 

Illuminated, by the Holy Ghost, 

You are His chosen instrument, to boast

And bear His cross and banner t’every nation, 

And suffer for His kingdom o’er creation.

In Christ, flood lifeblood all the Way to Rome,

To kingdom heart from knightly catacomb."

Then, Ananias lays his hands on Saul, 

Who finds his sight when broken scales fall.

At this, the heart of Saul sees living joy,

“Can we not my old man fast destroy?

Come baptize me and make me less, Him more.”

And Ananias, who, a day before 

Had prayed Damascus never should see Saul

Did baptize Pharisee by Godly call.

When tale was told, the true Damascus saints

Warm-welcomed Christian Saul without constraints

Ripped from reluctance in an astounding way.  

He, ever in his acts, beliefs displayed

Which he had come to slay. So blessed to lose,

When loss formed sweet embrace.  

Saul, the Persecuted

NTICIPATING ally, are appalled

With Royal work and sought to kill our Saul.

But, kinsmen of a closer blood-tie guard

And help their newest brother leave unmarred.

They lower him with care with basket, rope, 

And prayer, outside the city wall.   In hope

Th’apostle travels out across the land

Unto Jerusalem, to peaceful band

Who long has heard his gnashing teeth and growl

And cannot be convinced he’s aught but foul.

They know not yet the way the banner flies

Above all hearts, those blind and those with eyes.

O, Lord: flood lifeblood all the Way to Rome,

To kingdom heart from knightly catacomb.

Wherein the Saints of Jerusalem Gain Good Tidings

Barnabas befriends

ORGIVING Barnabas, a knight with gift

Of trust, hears whispers of the wind’s new shift,

Believes, and finds the new, repentant man

To ask if God had moved Saul by His plan,

“The rumors on the wind have sometimes lied,

According to my brothers, some have died 

By trusting fully, and by trusting men

Declaring that to God their hearts attend.

And yet, I cannot bring myself to doubt

That you, so strong against my Christ, devout

So late, were only changed by God above.

Adoring Him, I yearn to hear what love

Has brought the Pharisee to fairer side?”

And, thanking God, our grace-bound Saul replied

Of th'Damascus way and of blinding light

Which summoned him unto the greater sight.

And Barnabas, so touched by depth of change,

Perceived no cause their brother to estrange.

Now, knowing all that Saul had seen and learnt,

And how the Lord had shone such beam that burnt,

He rushed to John, to Peter, and to James,

Robust in joy, recounting Godly claim

Of foe turned friend, notorious knight made new,

Enthusiastic Barnabas speaks true.

Ecclesiastic leaders trust and turn

Their open doors to Saul, whose vision burns.

Regarding him their Christian kin, and saved 

His flesh from foes when that place also raved.

And all the church, as far as it had spread,

Did shine a beckon, while on peace it fed.

Of the Expansion of the Kingdom for the Gentiles

St. Peter Travels to Lydda, Healing

HILE Holy Ghost emblazoned Saul’s new heart,

A breath of praise brought Peter to depart

For Lydda, where once paralyzed soon walked,

Then Joppa, where the dead in trespass flocked

To be awak’ed to life in righteous way

When Peter called the sinful dead to saintly day.

In Joppa, humble Peter did abide

Where Simon, tanner, can a house provide.

And Peter praised the love of God for those

In cities which Jerusalem enclose.

A Vision in Caesarea

EYOND the realm where Peter’s thought had run,

In Caesar’a, dwells Rome’s centurion,

Cornelius who full with family fears

The God of Israel and prayed for years,

“Oh, Lord, flood lifeblood all the Way to Rome,

To kingdom heart from knightly catacomb."

He kneels one noon, light blazes all around,

And, audibly, hears angel’s voice resound:

“Cornelius!” In fear, he answered, “Lord?

For what does God His presence man afford?”

“To bless you. Just as smoke through air alights

From offerings, your selfless gifts delight

The Lord of hosts.  To town of Joppa, send

And ask for Peter, with his tanner friend.”

The angel leaves such news as God ordains,

Now we return to tanner’s home, again.

St. Peter's Simultaneous Vision

N Joppa, far away did Peter pray

Upon the roof of Simon’s house next day,

“Oh, Lord, flood lifeblood all the Way to Rome,

To kingdom heart from knightly catacomb."

While God fed soul, his flesh growled, hungrily,

While food below allured with pungency.

The eyes of Peter, closed in prayerful pose

On opening to vision vast, arose:

Before his face did fall a mighty sheet

With every creature winged or with four feet

Or scaled flesh which Law had named unclean.

And Peter paled from such unholy scene.

Before his eyes lay all he feared to touch

Or see, but none he feared nor felt as much

As voice arising clear upon the wind,

“Now kill and eat and you will not have sinned.”

But Peter knew the Law so well as this,

“Are not these creatures called unclean by Moses?

Not ever have I touched such things before.

Not for my pride, but God whom I adore.”

To which his lovely Lord spoke once again,

“Do not ‘impure’ identify’ng disdain

That which your Lord redeemed from the profane.”

But Peter stood and inwardly explored

What might be this new meaning of his Lord.

The sheet arose and disappeared to air

Which comforted our Peter that whate’er

Had seemed to happen, hunger made withal

And nothing disconcert should him befall.

Yet, as he sought to leave the roof in peace,

The sheet did fall again from God released

And Peter heard the voice he knew so well,

Refused again, so once again befell

Rejection of the creatures called unclean,

And Peter, troubled, doubts what God could mean.

Now, curious instead of disconcert

Did Peter watch the vital sheet ungirt

The Laws and gravity and, vaporous, rise

Before the fisherman’s uncertain eyes.

Now twice had come and twice had gone the sight

Anticipation grew to drive out fright.

He stepped toward the stair with upturned eyes

Upon the wind that vision might reprise.

He took a step, and then another, slow,

But sight did not return though wind did blow.

And Peter thought the vision passed unknown

And sighed that man such wisdom would not own.

But at the stair, he heard the voice and turned

And God, inviting, breathed and Spirit burned

In Peter’s heart to find this vision’s point,

Though he could not from Law so fast disjoint.

The vision left him full of wond’rous thought

And hope that truth of God is found when sought.

An Explanation

E stood like stone and pondered what it meant

Until the Spirit whispered, “I have sent

Three men to seek you here in Simon’s home

To lead you back to whence from which they roam.”

With joy that God would send him such a word,

Apostle Peter followed as he heard

And blazed the way descending stairs in haste

To meet the men for whom God bid him “taste.”

On sight of Gentile men did Peter smile

For then did God the vision reconcile.

St. Peter Understands the Vision

ND Peter breathed a heartfelt welcome, true,

“My name is Simon Peter, sought by you

Who Holy God did prompt to seek me out

And I’m in hope to hear you speak about

The man who, yearning truth, sends you abroad.”

To which the Roman answered, “Fearing God,

Centurion of ours first kneels to pray

When light erupts around and angels say

He must attain St. Peter from this place

And learn some glorious news to do with grace.”

Oh, Day —Arrive! Fill up, and overflow!

For long have you usurpéd been to woe.

The escort leaves with Peter at the dawn

And listens to his tales of days not gone.

St. Peter with the Gentiles

T Roman home, Cornelius did bow

But godly Peter ne’er would praise allow.

As he had often gi’en the reprimand,

He spoke, “Arise; I am no more than man.”

Cornelius thus spoke in godly kind,

“I simply joy that you shall fast combine

Your voice with words of God revealing true

The song for which He called me to call you.

I told my fellow men of vision fair

When God commanded me within my prayer.

Now, many came to hear your tongue divine

The discourse of God’s mighty works benign.”

Without the gleam of Moses, Peter glowed

From Spirit’s blaze within, soon out to show.

He meets the Gentile crowd with holy heart,

And speaks the truth that holy sight imparts,

“O, men and women truly loved by God,

For He is by no people group o’erawed,

And Christ floods lifeblood all the Way to Rome,

To kingdom heart from knightly catacomb.

That fire and wind and Holy Ghost which came

On Pentecost to Jews now spreads its flame

To Gentile crowd and all the earthly host

To whom am I forbid by man to boast

Of Jesus Christ who came to earth to die

That he killing sin might full mortify.

He rose from tomb and walked and spoke aloud,

And vanquished death, ascending ‘fore a crowd.

The gift of saving grace He sends to you,

The Gentile crowd, as He did for the Jew.

Repent, believe, confess His royal name

Good Jesus Christ of Nazareth proclaim.”

The finished words from Peter’s lips were met

With rousing wind and Spirit’s bright onset.

The languages which nations can't all know

Again from lips by Spirit’s power flow.

The Israelites Wonder

HE praise of men made righteous fills the place

With many souls which find amazing grace.

Outside was Peter’s entourage alarmed

At sounds of madness, fearing Peter harmed,

'Til he with group of Gentiles blazing went

From house to nearby water provident

To baptize family of Cornelius, fair.

To celebrate, he stayed in Gentile care.

Yes, Christ floods lifeblood all the Way to Rome,

To kingdom heart from knightly catacomb.

Yet, antsy grew the group of Peter’s friends

By sight of what they must misapprehend.

By nervous whispers words were spread abroad

That Peter did his work away from God.

An Explanation

T. Peter traveled home past many days,

God’s wondrous mercy setting heart ablaze,

But he met there the dampened souls of Jews

Who, though of Faith, unrighteously accuse.

Vexation filled their faces as they thought

He lied for those of Jacob not begot.

“Regard again election of our King

And where our Lord proclaimed, go baptizing.”

When Peter saw their understanding dim

The loving, godly truth breathed out from him,

“I have regarded sole the Kingly choice

By listening direct to will and voice.

A vision came to me on Simon’s roof

When sheet descends with beasts of cloven hoof,

And reptile flesh and shellfish and a call

To come and eat and still be clean withal.

Refusing first, I asked that God be clear

That Word of His o’er all should I revere.

And thrice He answered me upon the wind,

To kill and eat and I would not have sinned.

I wondered as the words and vision fled

When came another Law prohibited:

These Gentile men invited me to speak

With Roman guard who sent them me to seek.

Arriving there, I knew the vision’s plot

And quickly matched my word with heaven’s thought.

This way I came to preach Cornelius truth

And Spirit baptized all his grown and youth.”

A rev’rent silence followed Peter’s speech

Then church Jerusalem erupts with each

Exhaling voice with thanks to God for light

Fast reaching even to the Roman night.

In>In Which the Knights of Christ Feel the Opposition of Herod

The Worm in Herod's Heart

HE many joyful turned their praise to God,

But Royal Herod was not of those awed.

When reached his ears th’annointed name of Christ,

Fresh thoughts of blood’s antagony enticed

The king to keep his crown in firm command

Lest faux divine demand His Holy Land.

That bloodline bore such drops of ink and ice

That Herod would, for self, all sacrifice.

And whether Christ be king or God come down,

Still, Herod would despoil and Him uncrown.

Old icy ink had quickened to his heart,

He issued orders, bid his guards depart

And waited for the coming, bloody end

Of James, the kin of John, who did offend

The laymen’s loyalty with Spirit’s song

Reporting strident all to Christ belong.

St. James Arrested

HE soldiers thirsty marched toward the way

Where words of living water life convey.

From breath of James the bright evangelist,

Deflected by the helmets which resist

Both words and weapons, light and language true.

Guards deafly fell upon the dauntless Jew.

All company and kin and comrades dear

Are held at bay by killing glance and spear.

Within the gates of Herod’s haven go

The guards and James, despite the crowds below.

Outside the gates, more soldier’s swords made threat.

St. John Outside the Gates

HERE stood the brother John whose eyes last met

The form of staunch but rustled James enclosed

Within the door, among their least of foes.

So waited John until the next morn broke

To hear the verdict of his brother spoke.

The news came carried from the temple courts

That Synagogue had welcome fresh reports

Of James beheaded, holding Herod grand

And blessing him for fatal, fine command.

In stealing words, eavesdropping John did learn

Of stolen life, the death James did not earn.

Our John set solemn feet back on the way

With promised Comfort calling him to pray.

No Tears Like those Who have No Hope

E reached the home where Peter had remained

In prayer. John's bearing bore his pain.

Within the house, kind Peter led his friend

As drowning eyes meet his, choked words ascend,

“That glorious day I hold above the rest,

We followed Christ, and left our father blest.

Oh, how paternal eyes shown bright with pride,

That we’d attend to willing teacher’s side!

Away from nets and boats, upon the shore,

James met Christ first, the first my father bore.

My broken heart both weeps and worships in

The bittersweet: once more goes first my kin.

We once competed; we each glory sought

But since ascent, we’d teamwork both been taught.

But, Peter, now the team’s been cut apart

And each breath beats me with a broken heart.

Though heaven has my every hope and care

I’ve found my breath’s too weak for perfect prayer.”

Saint Peter knows the cruelty of loss

For all well knew who wept fore burdened cross.

But from his heart, the Spirit stayed his tongue

And both arms round the weeping friend, mute, clung.

While Peter felt untimely words abound

Within his mind, he pressed cold comfort down,

And silent sat with John, at last to say:

“If you can’t find your breath, for you I’ll pray:

Now, honest weep, and know you’ll meet, one day.”

At length, a calmless fills the eyes of John,

“But, Peter, watch yourself from these days on.

There’s more to teach, in many untouched lands;

The harvest large would miss your working hands.

My kin, take care.  I know you fear not death;

Still, fear the death of pagans, lacking breath.”

The two disciples’ talk had set with sun.

Remembering dear James whose race was run.

As John withdrew with thanks to comrade kind,

Again a bloodlust darkened Herod’s mind.

Herod's Plot

HE Synagogue had praised his practice coarse,

He courted bloody thought to reinforce

Alliance made to nation ’gainst its King

And sent more soldiers, snaring offering.

When Peter’s house went quiet for the night,

They broke like tempest waves at first twilight

Against his door and draught alive he met

When guards his peaceful vigil fast beset.

Calm Peter rose and posed ne’er flight nor fight,

But followed, chained, as he had followed light.

He walked the path with grace, and head held high,

While weakly leading guards led him to die.

Within the palace gates, their dust was blown

To cast their prisoner fore gilded throne.

Thus, Peter stood before the callous king,

Not serpentine, but damning life’s wellspring.

But blessed men sole set empyreal course

When King decree their flesh and soul divorce.

Wherein St. Peter is Made a Prisoner by a Prisoner

Herod Plots

IS hands had scarcely wiped the untouched blood

Which spilt within his sight a washing flood.

Four soldiers held the chains and cordage taut

While Peter, strong in body soft, ne’er fought

Nor fell beneath the bonds of bonded men.

Though Herod sought to please the Jews, again,

By sending him to trial, then to death,

For letting trait’rous speech imbue his breath,

The Passover drew nigh when feasts forbid

That kin should kill and undo what God did.

He stalled his judgment where he apprehended

He might, while malice-ridden, make Jews befriended.

Not then could bloody Herod one hand lay

On Peter ’til the Passo’er’s passing day.

In chains, he sent the liberated saint

To jail cell, a judgment to await.

St. Peter Sings in Chains

UT Peter forced within the stone-laid stall

Stayed peaceful in the threat of bitter gall.

Four guards had squarely hemmed him round with chains

Which scraped the stone and whispered mild refrains.

The tune bode ill for Peter’s health and skin

Yet, Herod could not harm his life within.

The rhythmic sound of clanging chains became 

His silent chanting meter and the frame

Divine for discourse with his hea’nly King.

“My only Father and my everything,

I lift my eyes unto the mighty hill

No one but You can vital needs fulfill.

Lone One who holds the claim to hea’enly throne,

You see the pagan king who claims Your own:

Your servant and Your crown, Your honor vast.

I would not have Your name so seem surpassed.

Defend Your righteous glory, Jealous God,

And, if You will, save he that breaths Your laud.

Yet, martyr's blood runs all the way to Rome,

To capital from knightly catacomb.

I heard You pray a bit before I slept,

The night You sweated blood while tears You wept.

‘Nevertheless, not will of mine but Thine,’

How fatal breathe those words, and yet benign!

Now, vigilant this night I must agree:

Just as I live, I’d gladly die for Thee.”

St. Peter Sees What He Thinks is a Vision

POSTLE Peter peaceful rested, then,

And fell asleep on praying night, again.

The silent night was pensive, cold and blue,

And Peter resting warmly never knew

Those watching warriors had slipped asleep

Miraculous in watchfulness, who keep

Their lives and payment by firm waking ways

Despite their cruel king’s weary working days.

And as they slept, cool starlight sneaking through

The stony cracks was sudden swept from view.

A warm and brilliant light of ending storm

Poured forth from fiercely beaming angel form!

Magnificence and beauty rare beheld

Sustained this gleaming caller where she dwelled:

So much magnificence did still rebound

From white and shiny garments, richly bound

With royal golden hues and purple trains

(The humble cloak a messenger retains).

For such a gloried, stunning, courtly sight,

There was no seer, since all slept that night. 

Her stunning entrance wasted on the blind,

The angel breathes command that chains unbind

Apostle Peter, pris’ner now of none,

In slumber when his victory was won.

With beauty gone to waste, the angel mild,

With strike to sleeping Peter, reconciled

That none too gentle prompt to waken fast

For cause of fervent prayer ecclesiast.

The church had surely prayed with effort true:

How could she any less vivacious do?

So, jolly smack to Peter’s side was felt

Though sleeping saint assumed he dreamt it dealt.

Apostle Peter felt not pain nor fright,

Arising slowly to behold the sight.

“’Tis sure a vision sent from God to dream.”

He wondered if he’d time to share its theme

With churchly body, fore his trial came.

“Arise! and quickly, knight who called King’s name!”

Obeying, Peter rose from loosened chain

While inward sought significance explained.

“Now dress and strap your sandals on,” she said.

“We must be on our way, Empoweréd.”

The moonlit messenger no want neglects,

Endowing Peter with the said effects.

Midnight Escape

HEN, dressed and shod, (as Peter inward asked

What meant these two when vision were unmasked)

The two decampéd calmly from the stall,

Past guards asleep like watchless dragons all. 

The midnight air was crisp with playful gale

And white-hot starlight marked their sandy trail.

The iron gate which from the city barred

Swung before the angel quite unmarred,

Untouched by fingertips as strong as steel,

Strengthened by the mighty throne they feel.

So, she and Peter went into the town, 

His feet left prints but not her swaying gown.

For rude earth, her impression's far too strong,

Restraining such to light and sight and song.

The angel walked with him one narrow street,

Then gyres and grins and goes without retreat.

With only spark of fire which leaves no smoke,

Her disappearance finally saint awoke.

Now Peter who, with angel near, naught found

Of oddity, finds true he is unbound.

St. Peter Understands

HE angel’s absence let the solid night

Be seen by eyes fore rapt in heaven’s light.

“A dream with allegory from above

Could just as well reveal the Kingly love.

But I forgot that story written here

Is allegory, too, more true severe.

My Kingly Christ delivered me from death

At Herod’s hand, with one command and breath.

With grace, he took me from the temple Jews

Whom hope of church annihilate amuse.

The angel truly came and broke my bonds,

Unworshipped worshipping He who responds.”

Knocking on Mark's Door

E lit out down the starry path to search

For house of Mark where often met the church

In prayer. E’en now, in hour late and dark,

The candles burned as saints in prayer embark

Their holy hopes for Peter’s health on high

And restless rest in faith in God’s reply.

They kept the vigil, past the doors well-locked

And hardly gave an ear when someone knocked.

The servant Rhoda rose from faithful prayer

To answer late night caller, “Who goes there?”

Without his name, St. Peter joyful breathed,

“There is so much I must to ears bequeath!”

As Rhoda recognized the saintly voice,

She, startled, shrieked and rapidly rejoiced.

To gathered brethren dashed she fast and true,

“Our Peter knocks!  From Herod he withdrew!”

Though she forgot she might have let him in,

Who, not the Christ, locked doors could discipline.

Thus not provided easy proof, they say,

“It's wind, most like.  No Peter comes that way.”

Exasperated by excess of joy,

Which those who ought to join seek to destroy,

“I know the sound of Peter as he spoke

To blesséd church, the Lord’s name to evoke.

It is he, e’en through the breeze that blew:

I know his voice, and there it breaths anew.”

Their lack of faith the praying group repent

“Perhaps it is his angel, helpful sent.”

Without, saint Peter hears of his return

And, smiling, seeks to end his midnight journ.

He pounds the door with his assuring fist

And thinks his King a holy humorist.

At last did Rhoda leave the live debate,

Unlock the door, and all doubts terminate. 

The Godly group breaths staggering, “Huzzah!”

Which convict quiets lest the noise should draw

A Roman guard who heard the joyful chime,

And mir’cle be required second time.

Sending St. Peter Out

O, breathing whispered thanks, they reconvene

In room where they had begged God intervene.

As, Peter spoke the sequel to that prayer,

Petitioners their hea’nward praise declare.

“Now quiet speed this secret on to James,

The brother of our Lord must spread His flames,

For I have need to take the way from here.”

So Peter spoke with urgency severe.

The messengers to James set out with he,

But soon met parting way, by God’s decree.

They saw beloved Peter blaze in pace

And, farther, turn them one last smiling face.

On route to James, the leader of the church,

They met the Roman guards who led the search,

And, silent, thanked the Spirit who forewarned

And asked from town their Peter safely borne.

Herod's Demise

The king had killed those guards he charged thereon.

Nor did this breed respect for deity, 

And Peter’s prayer became a prophesy.

For God defended all His honor vast,

Just as He saved His servant so steadfast.

When Herod pompous turned back to his state,

Enshrouding flesh in ore, he gave debate,

Then stirring speech which caused the crowd to call,

“This is no voice of man, but god withal!”

And in his heart than venomed ink and ice

Did flow these words into a mind sufficed

With being god of self and all he saw

So when he heard such worship and such awe,

He inwardly agreed with coarse account.

Divine, the judgment fell from galesome fount 

And Herod’s filthy blood was purged at last

When worms grown out of ice did fester fast.

And Herod, seeking death to godly reign,

Saw his own death as God had foreordained.

But ice-less, bright, and blazing forth, the church

Spread further out to Gentiles who search.