Poem for Repentance

I stood high on the hill, where my ancestors were buried
And I called aloud, into the voice of the storm:

“Bring me the strength to do what must be done
Bring me the bones and dust, but bury the ashes
Alarm, come forth alarm, and fear, rise up, and
Prick the heart of courage to his cause

“A lusty warrior is sleeping on this mound
He is buried underground
Five feet and three, he is resting
On his knee are the sword, the crown, and the key”

Repent of your hope for a quiet life, of solitude
And homespun wisdom
Repent of your search for a home of your own
Repent of the love of summertime and
the richness of a heart that beats with feasting
and the gladness of wine

Turn and face the winter at your doorstep
Turn into the bitter wind of destiny, open the door
to death and drink deep from the cup of
needful sorrows

And hold the hand of Christ as you
walk out of safety into the wilderness
of the unknown
Where danger and reward grow
thick and untended