The Grand Artisan

God, the ultimate Artist.
The supreme Scientist.
The intimate Presence, within,
and throughout this existence.
Regenesis … poetry in motion.
Life, as an artistic documentary?
Seen through all the agony
and the ecstasy,
the triumph and the tragedy?
Or are we rats in a laboratory?
Are we but particles
within the part and parcel
of subatomic intricacy?
Only a quark apart …
a small part of the mechanical?
Speaking relativity,
where is the Glory?
A perpetual quantum
crunching the numbers
in some mindless continuum.
Is that the universal story?

“The starry host but a breath
of His mouth. Stars forming,
and not a one missing!
Led forth and called by name.”

Is life but the echo
of a big bang smoke ring?
Something so bright
from the darkness of nothing?
Is biodiversity itself,
a missing key?
All tied up in knots
by a Theory of String?
Can a Theory of Everything
actually tell me a thing?
Did a ‘God Particle’
give existence it’s zing?
The universe some substance?

Dimensions within
dancing upon the head of a pin .
Am I by design
an accidental fundamentalist?
A partaker in creation,
or just a bewildered tourist?
Are we all painting pictures in time?
Drawing a fine line
by celestial design?
Or are we committing
by not admitting …
to the graffiti of all crime?

The Universe unfolding.
Searching for meaning,
with equations empty and beguiling.
A series of numbers
adding up to zero.
Yet, the natural world revealing
the hand of command,
the True Supernatural Hero.

Sifting the ether
for that purity of essence.
Woefully mislaid,
an absence of innocence.
The Consciousness Human,
wonderfully made,
yet a dim reflection,
from a mirror broken.

The Master Craftsman, hand unseen,
dispersing, dispensing, expressing,
calling … as behind a curtain.
Yet known in the depths of our being.
For, “We are such stuff
as dreams are made of.”
My theory of everything
starts with ~”In the beginning…”

Visions of angels singing
songs of celestial love.
Supernatural the high,
like a cool hand
in a warm glove.
Like a dove electric
transmitting love ecstatic
from Heaven above.
Garlands and rose petals
with the rising
… the overcoming,
the growing,
the passion desiring.
Gracious beauty abounding.
All in all, and everything
in the midst of Him,
holding together all things.

Out weighing gravity.
Outpacing relativity .
Like a singer of soul
riding the sweeps,
from the highest of highs,
to the deepest of deeps.
In three-quarter time,
playing for keeps.

Through all the eclectic prismatic,
the ecstatic, the joyful electric
flowing with angelic static.
As lightening sings
in spiralling rings.
Salvation, divine restoration,
heaven sent,
revving up the revelation
of the eternally relevant.
(Not the pulling of strings) .

The whirlpool galaxies
all in a spin.
The fullness of the Universe,
beyond all imaginings.
This material realm vibrates
in anticipation.
A fanfare of celebration
for the Author of Creation.

The Most Senior Physicist,
within who’s grasp lies the future,
the past, and all that exists.
His loving presence, forbearance,
and patience, in pursuit of You.
Pursue what is True.
Not the celebrity physicist
and evangelizing atheist who
put on his lab coat and mysteriously
becomes an expert theologist !?
(like glimpsing a Zoo
makes you a Zoologist),
who lectures and conjectures.
Puffed up like a puffer fish
with a shaking fist.
Freedom of speech …Yes.
But please do not preach
on things way beyond
your telescope’s reach.
Biology, Astronomy, and Theology
… all in a twist!

Trapped In a vortex,
by the sharp edge of existence.
Always standing in line
behind the sentinels aligned
at the memorial to war.
Yet the whisper of a trace,
the scent of a taste
… things only hoped for.
Quiet lives,
written on desperate faces,
screaming for an open door.
Mixed up confusion.
Is faith in love
… but a delusion?

Amid strung out dimensions
of black holes orbiting,
and the cosmos recycling,
a precious pearl is forming.
Star bright, love shining
and overflowing.
With a countenance glowing.
Faith sustaining
. . . Kingdom within.

Witnessing lives of
loud and proud desperation,
citizens of Rebel Nation
begin a riot of confrontation.
Lives of Spirit filled meditation,
interfacing with
the Infra Structuralist,
(better know as ‘Jesus Christ).
Forever interlacing the embracing,
and, with Whom, love is a must.
Upon the carousel of revelation,
the inspiration
of God given imagination.
Does the Artist do it
. . . for recreation?
Nuclear baby booming.
Generationals through to
Seminal Millennials,
did you see the world dissolving?
Bubbling as in a boiling cauldron?
Will God restore the whole Earth,
and give it to His messy,
carbon based children?

Struggling through
the barbed wire
of recrimination,
cold and hungry.
Skyclad, and on the run,
throughout the endless
friendless night.
Like Armenian starvation,
the force feeding
of turkish delight,
in the denial of deep spite.
Lost in a place of misdirection.
For the love of God, pleading,
seeking morning’s warming light.
In a strange land
finding the rock solid friend.
Becoming a whole new creation.
A jumpstart to the heart
~ Resurrection.
I’m just beginning to understand,
by the work of His hand,
the smallest strand of a plan.
Designed with love
by the Artisan most grand.

Art … not for art sake.
In the big scheme of things
too much at stake.
True creativity
comes from a place of intimacy
with the passion and the glory
of Holy Divinity
(and with the friends that you make)

… by david redpath © 2017

* L’Annuncio (The Trinity)
… by Salvador Dali

Photo: david redpath



img-0522-01-1484909054.jpegHidden Treasure
found in the bowels of the Vatican
. . . not me , the Dali !

screenshot_2017-11-15-19-52-20-01-011474693029.jpegSalvador Dali’s bedroom ceiling
Photos: david & linda redpath © 2017

“Art is the highest form of hope.”
~ Gerhard Richter

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