James’s Blog: The Jeremiah Blues.

So God says “Go!” and you say, “No, I’ve worn

These shoes before. I know the way this ends.

With me abused, misused, confused and bruised,

I wonder why you don’t have any friends?”

Still God says “Go!” and you say, “So, no peace

Allowed, it seems. It’s gone from bad to worse.

Inside my chest I’ve wrath yet to express,

But tell me why your blessing is a curse?”

So you say, “Fine,” and God says, “Wait! Let’s get

This straight. A little prophet can’t compete.

You forget, dead set, I’m not in your debt.

Don’t race me, I’m a rocket – you’re just feet.

“Now listen, there’s a vacancy to fill:

Tester of Metals. I’ll be very frank.

Best of the rest, your C.V. has impressed,

But partly because it was mostly blank.

“My words disturb the peace and when it comes

To choosing mouths I’ve impeccable taste.

The LORD of night and song, of right and wrong

And I don’t need to rhyme to make my point.

“So hold your nerve, that’s what a prophet does.

Refine and test. You’ll teach them how to wail.

No balm in Gilead – be mad not sad,

Flame like a holy Molotov cocktail.

“Each prophet needs a message to proclaim;

A god to follow; fire to throw themselves

Upon. Be strong. Let baby Babylon

Go. Speak! The sleepless inner pyre compels!

“I understand. It’s struggle to be called.

Do your best. Stand up tall. We’ll muddle through.

Confused, abused and bruised, but not misused.

So go! We’ve work still to do, me and you.”