Margaret Macleod
Poetry
Margaret Macleod is a member in Back Free Church Congregation, and has written some moving poetry. We hope to add to this page. You can contact Margaret on mamacleod@backfreechurch.co.uk.
"Talitha Cumi"
A Poem based on Mark 5:35-43
Nine long months she'd held this baby
safe within her secret place
until at last, one glorious morning
she kissed her new-born daughter's face.
Countless times she held the infant
and gazed on her with loving eyes
as every morn she whispered gently
"Talitha Cumi, my darling, rise".
Years rolled by, her daughter blossomed
from helpless babe to little child
who filled that Hebrew house with laughter
and love so pure and undefiled.
How often did her mother call her
from sweet slumber's paradise?
Time was passing, breakfast waiting.
"Talitha cumi, child arise!"
From little child to loving daughter,
the apple of her father's eye
until the fateful cry of sorrow,
"Why my daughter? Oh God, why?"
His precious baby, ill and dying
before his pain fed, helpless eyes.
Tenderly he held her to him,
"Talitha cumi, darling, rise".
But then a memory stirred within him
of a man who healed by touch or word.
Desperation drove him from her
seeking Him of whom he'd heard.
At last, Oh precious hope! he found Him,
begged Him come with pleading eyes.
Then had to watch the Healer tarry
until one came and said, "She dies...
...Trouble not the Master further".
How must his heart have torn in two!
And then to hear the words of comfort:
"I will restore her unto you".
They entered in that house of mourning,
where some their scorn could not disguise.
He put them out, they did not hear Him,
"Talitha cumi, maid, arise."
Four simple words she'd heard through childhood
from those she loved and trusted most.
Now words of power, not from family,
but the very Lord of Hosts.
Breaking through the shrouds of darkness
and Death's cold and icy ties,
she awoke to tears and laughter,
as loved ones saw their child arise.
Will you wake up from your slumber
and cast away your chains of sin?
Still your soul and hear Him calling.
Listen to the voice within.
His loving words can heal the dying,
give the blind sight in their eyes.
Will you give your heart to Jesus?
"Talitha cumi, child, arise".
© M.A. Macleod 2001
The Book of Life
The Book of Life is Open
is my name written there?
With fear and terror in my heart
to hope I do not dare.
My life is laid before Him,
each thought and deed exposed.
No word of mine can justify,
the Book of Life is closed.
With dread I stand before Him,
and wait to hear my fate
Eternity in pain and fire
no love there - only hate.
I know his wrath is lawful,
and the punishment is just.
But what a dreadful price to pay
for each sin and earthly lust!
But wait! A voice is speaking
I turn around to see
The Lamb of God before the Throne
His arms outstretched to me.
He says, "I died for her, Father,
my blood has washed away
sins which marked her soul for death.
There is no price to pay."
He took the burden from me
when I knelt at Calvary
And now I'm carried by his love
across the Crystal Sea.
Forever to be with Him
my joy can not be bound.
No more to fear or tremble for
my paradise I've found.
© M.A. Macleod 2001
Too Precious
Though I never brushed a teardrop from your eye
nor took your hand
Though I never gazed upon your sleeping form
Though I never held you safe
within the circle of my arms
Though I never kissed those lips so sweet and warm
I have loved you with a love so fierce
it tears my heart in two
From the hour you were conceived I called you mine
Cradled 'neath my breast
You should have lived to see the sky,
hear the birds' sweet music
basked in warm sunshine.
But to touch you was not possible
though you have touched my heart
I somehow knew you were too precious for this world
As a rosebud in the springtime
your lifespan would be short.
Never would these fragile petals be unfurled.
Now each day I mourn your passing
precious rosebud of our love.
But I know we'll meet in Paradise
where you were called to play with angels
throughout eternity,
and to serve the One whose loving gentle eyes...
Looked on the babes and infants
in Judea's fair, green land.
From His lips a precious promise He has given:
"Suffer little children
to come unto me
For theirs is the kingdom of Heaven."
© M.A. Macleod 2001
