The Sound of Rain

A poem by Emma Knight

At our Maundy Thursday gathering, a number of different poems were shared, and we’ll be featuring some of them in a blog over the coming days. Here’s the first one, by Emma Knight.

I don’t so much care for the noise of rain on my window sill
But the sound of God cleansing his creation which moves me to be still

And to know that the pain when I’m out of breath
is a reminder that the rise and fall of my chest
is anchored by the one who calls me to rest.
It’s not just air breathed
it’s life breathed into motion
And a voice that speaks calm
into the chaos of this moment.

In him alone I find intimacy when alone
yet I still wear a shackle round my wrist
and pick up my phone.
It’s a connection I crave,
to be understood and praised.
To double tap
Fix everything with another nap.

When he’s with me and waiting
When I’m free and forgiven
Yet somehow I forget the reason
To look to him not myself
To his creation not my sin in yesterday’s place.
When he took that.
My place upon the cross.
A mark of love that can never be surpassed
A mark of love that speaks of life not loss.

It’s written on the landscapes
Of the narratives he shapes
The mountains and valleys sing the depths and heights of his victory
Whilst he was pinned up on that tree
My sin taken. Redeemed, I’m free.
To be the me that he called me to be
Full of joy yet with stories I can tell
Of the human pain and suffering he knows so well
Leading me to plumb the depths of his grace like the woman at the well

I like the sound of rain on my windowsill.
Reminding me of Gods cleansing power and the call to be still
And to know that

Drop by drop
The weight of glory grows
A renewing river flows
Inside a heart where there’s fire
For a life that only God could inspire

Drop by drop
From the thorns on his forehead
Casting a shadow of darkness
Only to broken by the light that he spread

Drop by drop
From the tips of his toes
The same that lead him to listen
in humble adoration to his people’s woes.

But before the blood came the flood
Drop by drop.
Jesus wept.
Crying out to his father in desperation
Yet completely willing to fulfil his narration
With a beautiful demonstration
Of the glory in death and resurrection

Drop by drop
The news spread
Yes, Jesus really rose from the dead
For the church he is the head
We’re his bride he now calls us to wed

I love the sound of rain on my window sill
Reminding me of Gods cleansing power and the call to be still
And to know that

He’s my saviour in the silence
My shepherd in the storm
My Father in the waiting
And the King by which I’ve sworn

My life to give
Alive now I live
Knowing that my Jesus reigns
Royal blood now flows in my veins

I thank God for the sound of the rain on my windowsill
For his cleansing power over me and the call to be still
And to know that

My Jesus has won.
Leaving me undone
And in awe at his goodness
Reminded that by grace alone I am saved
And to keep running this race
My eyes on him
My heart open to his calling
Renewed mercies every morning

Always leading me back to the son
And to wonder at God the holy one.