Thief in the Night

I used to lie awake at night praying for a car to drive by
In order to break the silence swallowing my bedroom whole
And convince me that the rapture hadn’t come and I’d been left behind
Because surely if someone was out driving this late at night
Then there must be at least one more sunrise left in this world
Before the trumpet sounds and signals the commencement of its demise
But that passing vehicle offered only momentary consolidation
As I anxiously pulled my covers up over my eyes

And although that was sixteen years ago I still catch myself looking up to the sky
And trying to imagine what it will be like to see it rolled up as a scroll
The horizon folded in on itself
The light of the noon day sun eclipsed by a radiance too majestic to behold

And I think in our own way we’re all either afraid of being abandoned and alone
Like the kid whose parent forgot to pick them up from school
Or being confronted and exposed so unequivocally
That we’ve nowhere left to run and hide from our transgressions suddenly visible

But if there’s no orphans or criminals in your kingdom
Then why does neglect or punishment feel like an ever impending reality for so many?
Does it break you heart to look upon that which you fashioned with your two hands
Reject your advances out of disappointment or fear of reprimand?

But the glass is cracked in this kaleidoscope with which I perceive my surroundings
My fractured experience projected onto the canvas I paint you in to
Distorted representation superimposed by the wounds that haven’t quite healed
But I brush it off like it’s no big deal

Because we’re lonely, but we don’t want to be needy
And we’re desperate to feel the embrace of love unconditional despite our flaws
But we don’t want to be judged
So standing precariously with toes curled over the edge of the diving board
We’re captivated by the deep, but too apprehensive to take the plunge
Teetering between consciousness and sleep
Is this what it means to be lukewarm
To know the words, but refuse to speak?

I don’t want to be a stranger at your gate
The confession of my lips a million miles away from the interactions of my hands
I want to be found faithful on our wedding day

Because everyone from conspiracy theorists to the calendars of ancient civilisations to street corner preachers
Are placing bets on the hour at which the apocalypse will come
Well I see it around every corner anyway
So what’s the difference who’s right or wrong?

Because whenever I pass by a church yard and the clock strikes its eleventh hour
Sending ravens scattering from the bell tower
I think I see the slightest rumbling at the feet of tombstones
And press my ear to the ground in anticipation for the groaning of creation
Decaying bones aching to be liberated from their prison
“It won’t be long now” I whisper into the dirt to whoever’s listening
Because one way or another we’re all coming up out of the grave
An the admission of every tongue and humble posture will be the same

But I want to recognise the voice that’s beckoning from chariots of fire
Because I’ve cultivated a fellowship behind closed doors of burning desire
A love that cannot be quenched
But there are days when I feel like a solitary match
Trying to stay lit in the midst of a hurricane
My resolve put to the test
Because I know that your eyes are searching to and fro across this earth
For lanterns blazing brightly at twilight with enough fuel to last till morning
Welcoming their long awaited thief in the night

I don’t want to be a stranger at your gate
The confession of my lips a million miles away from the interactions of my hands
I want to be found faithful on our wedding day
I don’t want to be caught asleep in the garden
Abdicating my mission of simple obedience
Hastening the day of your return
I want to mourn for the bridegroom with my life

I want to be found faithful on our wedding day
I want to mourn for the bridegroom with my life