"A Better Resurrection" by Christina Rossetti


I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf:
O Jesus, quicken me.


My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk:
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall--the sap of spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.


My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing;
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.

"Sometimes we feel lost without knowing why. We feel down but we cannot describe the feeling. And that is where I feel this poem helps to bring into words what we are unable to express. It speaks for us when we do not know what to say. But it does not simply groan and drown itself in self pity. It points us to the source of our joy and strength as we walk away with hope, fixing our eyes on Christ our Saviour." Zhenhao

Indeed, as my church friend zhenhao said, there is a beautiful irony in how we can draw strength from our bleak situation by turning to Jesus Christ in humility. haha and i guess this poem quite fits my mood and situation, having been posted to combat engineers, which i am really not looking forward to for the next 5 months. but now i just want to take this opportunity to thank God, and pray that he will grant me the wisdom and understanding in his sovereign will to have a joyful and thankful heart in whatever circumstance i find myself in. I hope this poem will serve as a reminder of the resurrection of Jesus within ourselves for you as it has for me, as we who were dead in sin are now resurrected in Jesus -- melt and remoulded into a royal cup for Him, my King. O Jesus, quicken me! O Jesus, rise in me! O Jesus, drink of me!

ps. Found this poem at this very useful site: http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/crossetti/lahikainen6.html

some food for thought from that site:

1. Does Rossetti blame Jesus for not having had a good enough resurrection? Is it his fault she is so alone? Or is she waiting for a kind of personal resurrection within herself, born through a love of Jesus?
2. In the last stanza, she wants the broken bowl to be tossed into a fire and remade into a royal cup fit for Jesus. Is there a direct comparison in the poem between the rich potential of her soul and the disappointment/failure of this life to fulfill it?