|
There He goes on His one way journey,
through the land of necromance.
Though the people fight Him with their
fury,
He mystifies them with His peaceful
dance.
The dead rise laughing, while those
alive die crying.
The future is lost in the past.
The defiled rise cleansed while the
self righteous, cloaked and spying,
hope that this “man” will not last.
Hope never satisfies the bellies of the
greedy,
so they plot this “man’s” demise.
As He looks upon these men most needy,
the tears fall from His eyes.
His compassion and mercy has no impact,
as they wait in ambush and anticipate.
Disappointed at how in all of the
violence of this act,
they find no anger they find no hate.
Just the Mooncalf and his forgiveness,
a final act and a saddening cry.
A crowd of stunned and aimless people,
A legacy of Who and why...
Through the years He has had many
names,
But I suppose Mooncalf might fit Him
best.
No significant awards, fancy diplomas
or honors,
Not even an S upon His chest.
Just nail scarred hands, a crown of
thorns,
and a legend of a quest....
To
those who would believe and receive...
this Mooncalf who loves you...
there will be rest. |
