These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

Seasons of Darkness

Seasons of darkness descend on the soul,
making us cry, "Oh, Lord, Why?"
But in the process of being made whole,
the waiting and darkness reply,

"Where is the One, thy soul ever seeks?
Doth He just bid thee begone?
Or is it the dark thy heart ever tweaks,
creating a longing for the sun?"

'Tis in the dark, that mushrooms are grown.
What a savory part of thy food!
In shaded part of a tree are yet known
the hostas, and ferns lovely good.

In the darkest of night have the hurricanes screamed,
blowing down all the loose limbs of life.
The churning of milk brings us butter and cream.
A dark time can deal with our strife.

A broken bone can mend in the dark of a cast.
A preacher is called in the night.
Obscurity's school is a glory at last
when the Truth is proclaimed in the light.

When you work in the night, and sleep in the day,
the lonely of Jonah sets in,
but the giftings of God in their final display
will show trophied souls He did win.

The dark and the light of these temporal years
are the tools, that The Lord, He can use.
The burning of fright, and the shame of the jeers
melt the dross in the gold He did choose.

The darkness is subject to The Son, Who is Light.
The seasons of dark are a span.
The making of gems in earth's crushing of night
are the gifts of The Day by His Plan.

by Jay O’Toole
on October 18th, 2024