Arumcapille Ime

Arumcapille Ime Glorifying King Jesus through poems about life and scripture:
"A servant of the king above,
A simple slave, captive of love."

03/19/2026

From the archives:
"Sterile Mirror"
Saturn loomed, enthroned high in sky,
As I sat in room of white.
A bed bore leaden, failing form
But hope sat high on golden throne.
Wisdom’s crown flowed around his head,
That halo shining aged light,
It framed an image of his Lord,
I heard completion sing her tone.
That man that did not have a heart,
He bore the largest one I knew –
And that needle that pierced his arm
Now looked to me an ancient nail.
His bed was formed a different art,
A wood that once a savior slew.
His eyes reflected sea of dawn,
And for that shore he did now sail.

03/11/2026

From the Archives:

"Bloodmoon"
When lunacy is doused in blood –
When silver turns to red.
When darkness swallows light’s last hold –
When light itself seems dead.

Can hope abide in lunacy,
Or swim in sea of blood?
We look across that sanguine sea,
And see but the red flood.

But could that be, a point of light –
A form upon the waves?
Who is this walking upon might,
Who minds not darkest days?

He pours forth light upon the sky,
And hope returns again.
The tide of blood begins to fly,
And life returns to men.

02/28/2026

"Atlas"

We stand here at the rocky gates,
Beholding Atlas's vigil.
A single man in sorry state -
Standing stark against the sea wall.

His muscles strain against the weight,
Of rock and stone, of earth and sod,
For this the burden he calls fate
Has now become to him a god.

Must we ever look upon him,
Striving for the vastest burden?
Why must these loads lie so close in
That we always try to seize them?

I turn and see another's strain
Under a weight of more than wood -
At first a yoke, but after pain,
But crown upon his head is good.

I look upon that heavy tree -
A load that Atlas could not bear -
And there in ancient words I see
The one who holds our every care.

02/19/2026

From the Archives:

"The Fire"
I thought of the fire as place to avoid,
A torment, a refuse, a dark empty void.
I lost myself in those pits, in that fire,
Helplessly sinking in that deadly mire.

Then I met you, and am no longer the same,
Transformed by your grace, now in love with your name.
The things of this world no more hold this soul down,
He has traded my fate from pauper to crown.

Now into the fire I journey again,
With your joy in my hand, and you as fast friend.
For close I will feel you in hottest of flame,
The searing of flesh bringing forth your great fame.

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