A great work, prophethood.
But now Elijah, sunk beneath that load, despaired,
sought the wilderness.
He'd been faithful, done his best.
Yet Jezebel, obdurate Jezebel,
with adamantine hate
now sought his life.
Still, the Lord led him like a child
fed him
strengthened him for the climb ahead.
Up toward life eternal he was led.
"Where art thou?"—(ancient call)
"What doest thou here, Elijah?"
(have you, too, heard that trumpet call?)
"Go forth, and stand upon the mount"!
Ever obedient
he stood
listening, waiting,
and through the earth's enormous roar
he strained to hear,
until in deepest stillness
that voice, whispering, crescendoing, reached his ear.
Not like his fathers—
but like his Father.
A still small voice of Life,
but not too small to speak
to him, to me, to you!
