From: lamppoet@CENTURYTEL.NET (Mark)

Sometimes we want more than we get.



"Until No One"



("The sacred vestments of Aaron shall be passed on to his sons after him;
they shall be anointed in them and ordained in them." Exodus 29:29)



I know you want the title,
I heard you've been renamed.
You're the prophet who can change
any ashes that have remained from
the fire we burned last night in the hearth
where we stare at the flames till midnight.
No one blames them for going cold after so long.



But the positions we inherit, the ranks we desire
do not fit us in our longings for something deeper,
something higher, something wiser than the mere headdress
of a priest at his duties,
or the half-Windsor knot of an executive's silk tie,
we lie to other who know the truth,
we lie to ourselves and remain unmoved.



From the stars whose light fascinates our eyes,
from nebulae and galaxies we pretend to be our playgrounds,
the deepest call, (a Servant's appellation), lands within our ears
quicker than light from iron-cold stars.



Fasten the nametag now, do not hesitate, serve the meal
with the wine
and take your place among
those who have heard you were once a criminal
or worse.



Today is your choice, today is the final verse of an Amen
louder than the last sound from the first black hole; listen now
to the level ground, the Father's Son laid everything down



And kicked up the dust he first created so some would
lay down their crowns
to follow, thirsty, through the desert, until no one
knows our name.





Following,
mark p.

lamppoet@centurytel.net



Mark's Blog

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