The on-stage Christ - poem

Contemporary Review, Dec, 1993 by Pam Gidney

THE ON-STAGE CHRIST

We walk the stage of life And sometimes think we see There, standing in the wings, A shadowy figure: A scene-shifter perhaps, Who with strong arms Moves the essential furniture upon the stage, Changes the backdrop, lowers down the flats. Our play progresses: we have learnt our lines, We know the part that we must play, The masks That we must don to cover up our shame. Another glimpse, this time stage left,

POEMS

Reminds us of that figure we once saw: Perhaps a prompter, quick to find The words that lesser actors have forgotten. But we take centre-stage In all our arrogant self-assurance, Knowing the play revolves around our part. Star quality is ours: the world adores. But coming back across the empty stage When all the lights are down, the audience gone, And shadows clothe the bones of our pretence -- Who stands before the footlights in his own Intrinsic light? No stage-hand this, No follower of words in well-thumbed book: Not even strutting star acclaimed by all. This is the one, unseen, but always there, Glimpsed tantalisingly from time to time And then dismissed, as one of no account. And yet he is the player and the play, He is the Prologue and the Epilogue, He the five acts, and every scene is his. He is the silent watcher of each play, The ever-present, always on-stage Christ.

BEYOND REALITY

Reality Is where people go Who have no imagination. It's harsh out there, they tell me, And things are Only the way they seem. There's no getting away from them. Facts and reality go hand-in-hand. I give reality a passing nod from time to time, But I'm far out from there. Where I am Anything can happen. Improbabilities abound. The boundaries are flexible, The barriers are down, And in this unpredictable state Creativity can flourish, Love is born, And there is room to contemplate our God.