Sprint to the Line

A friend wrote this and put this in my hands a few weeks ago and when I plucked up the nerve to read it, it completely took my breath away. I'm no poetry expert, and I know I'm biased, but in my humble opinion this should be studied in school, Wilfred Owen style, for the way he has managed to mix glory and grief, triumph and tragedy, in such an articulate and accurate way. He has documented our feelings and God's promises better than I ever could.

THIS is the reason we hold all the tighter to our God, and will never quit the race, even if we have to crawl it for a while.

Sprint to the Line

Young brother

grab your gold with an embrace and “well done”

race won, course run

as we struggle on, ragged breath gasp quick with grief

our chests tight and knees weak

in your absence

The story of the crown awaits

Overcomer

eternal laurel alive even as grave wreathes fail and fade

This stopped clock leaves us horror slack as disaster witnesses

a date to divide time for those left behind

This record one we wish not yours, nor another’s

as mute reflection our only response to our overwhelming

and our course stretches all the longer

without you

This medal will weigh our steps with every new hill as a memory never shared, our marathon so long

So take your podium

raised son

Joy boundless guarding you from our grief as your tears are dried, even as ours flow for your snatched moments

precious as counted and found coins for their brevity

We run weak limbed, stumbling to be where you are

to run worthy with ragged knees as you stand

glorious, vigorous and in timeless prime

missed one

We run

with open mouths, our bleeding hearts committed to The One

Who will hold, humble and honour us

too soon, but not soon enough

in victory united by His hand

Anthony Rei, June 2012