The drink of gods in chalice gold Was offered to the men of old And offered to all men through time And often claimed to be sublime. But lip and teeth its stain destroys It poisons all of Adam’s boys Neither do the girls of Eve Find from its grip any reprieve. It offers freedom to all men But prisons all within its pen, A jail of filth, disease, and death Endured by all until last breath. This golden chalice lifted high Can only offer death’s last sigh. But there’s another cup I know Filled up with living water’s flow. The cup is made from humble wood And given us by one who stood Between God’s wrath and sinful man Fulfilling God’s eternal plan. When water from this cup I sip, From wooden cup raised to my lip, The stains on teeth are washed away And poison’s work this flow does stay. And humble though this cup might be Its cleansing work is plain to see The water flows to make me whole To purge and clean my darkened soul. A life eternal does it give, And life abundant now I live. Yet even though its drink is strong, My heart, I find, does often long, It longs for stagnant water’s taste, Old painful joys and mortal waste. It often longs to free the sin That dormant lies so deep within. My darkened mind so often thinks That if from chalice gold I drink, Then struggles in this life will fly And joyful life I’ll not deny. Lord, help my taste to choose a’right And from the chalice gold take flight, Then drink from wooden humble cup That comes from you for me to sup.
This poem is taken from my book A New Song, (Westbow Press, 2016) and can be found online HERE.
