I believe in a God that is not bound by time. I believe He sees all things at once and knows the end from the beginning. Some things He stops, some things He allows. I can not help but wonder why.
a king’s view
the clouds, how they wafted
while the dust swirled
to a peasant’s
heavy footstep.
What to do
when even the noon sun
plays to your scepter
and the arrow
lies shelved
Ah,
she bathes
see how the light
from the sands surrounding
shadows her hidden valleys
does she,
you suppose,
know,
a dune and a battlefield away,
her husband,
so true and valiant
shall be the wine
that pours
to hide her shame
and mask a king’s boredom.
and you knew
his son
would fare no better, you know,
he who wrote
in wisdom’s rancid leather
and polished it clean
with God’s tarnex
we marveled
and hoorah’d
to the preacher’s
fountain
of noble verse
and etiquette
but when he himself
needed a drink
the fountain grew thorns
and in an old age
wisdom grew crazy legs
and danced to
Ashtar’s waltz
and, again, you knew
Samson would fail
and grind in the dark
Abraham would deny
his wife
to save his skin
and Judas
would swing in the shadows
for the purchase
of innocent blood.
and all of this, you knew
Paul would hold
the coat
while Stephen
grew heavier
and the greatest of speeches
went unanswered.
this too, you witnessed
in look away un-alarm
a king’s view
the clouds, how they wafted
while the dust swirled
to a peasant’s
heavy footstep.
What to do
when even the noon sun
plays to your scepter
and the arrow
lies shelved
Ah,
she bathes
see how the light
from the sands surrounding
shadows her hidden valleys
does she,
you suppose,
know,
a dune and a battlefield away,
her husband,
so true and valiant
shall be the wine
that pours
to hide her shame
and mask a king’s boredom.
and you knew
his son
would fare no better, you know,
he who wrote
in wisdom’s rancid leather
and polished it clean
with God’s tarnex
we marveled
and hoorah’d
to the preacher’s
fountain
of noble verse
and etiquette
but when he himself
needed a drink
the fountain grew thorns
and in an old age
wisdom grew crazy legs
and danced to
Ashtar’s waltz
and, again, you knew
Samson would fail
and grind in the dark
Abraham would deny
his wife
to save his skin
and Judas
would swing in the shadows
for the purchase
of innocent blood.
and all of this, you knew
Paul would hold
the coat
while Stephen
grew heavier
and the greatest of speeches
went unanswered.
this too, you witnessed
in look away un-alarm
There is another,
oh, at least one,
but a trinket upon the universe's heavy chain.
another to be spared
from so much
for so long
grace beyond grace
and
mercy upon mercy.
a thousand pardons
for a thousand
transgressions
only to finally
fall
to the treasonous
heart
and history’s snare
as the rabbit
would lose it’s fur, once more
and man his prideful cloak
and shorn, shorn, shorn my hair,
shorn to the roots!
and you knew-
all the while
you knew
a toast then!
and a cheer
to the fallacy
of man
and his appointment
as jester
to his own muse
on spineless legs
and invisible twisted strings.
~rick
~rick
