"…and Jeremiah sank into mud." Jer. 38:6
There is a world where but one path remains, When your calling cannot be spoken in words. – For a word displeasing to the princes, Jeremiah found himself cast in a pit…
And there, in mud, neither food nor drink – The mud did not cling to the prophet pure, He dared not say at first: "Behold, I am!" Yet he became the mouth of God. Without reprieve.
… And beyond the wall – a wild darkness of Chaldeans. They eat and drink, and feast in satisfaction. They are enemies, yet not from them comes war, It dwells – in hearts that will not bow in peace.
The prophet stands alone. Princes and king, and all Burn with fire to stand for the holy city. Yet the city fell in hope and splendor, And it was not the prophet who was to blame…
He sits in the pit… Mud all around and slime. Why is he here in these final hours? And he prays toward the tiny heights above, That God would untangle the knot of life for all…
He does not plead for mercy, does not cry – His own are cruel in their righteous zeal… And not one other bearing cross-like torment Weighs so heavily as that which smells of grace!
… In the hearts of people mud has settled deep. And people dwelt within one hollow pit… But the prophet knew the Divine power And treasured the rays of its cross.
