Friday 27 December 2013

PARABLE

My pain is great, my wounds are sore,
My life bleeds to its end.”
I’ve come to care for you, to pour
Oil on your wounds, my friend.”

I faint, I feel my spirit pine:
My soul is reft by strife.”
My friend, I’ve come to pour you wine
To stimulate your life.”

I have no shelter, can’t begin
The journey to my home.”
I’ll bring you safely to the inn -
There is no need to roam.”

I lie within a world of harm
And cannot be released.”
My friend, I’ll bear you on my arm
To set you on my beast.”

My money and my goods are lost;
I cannot pay a fee.”
Do not despair, my friend - the cost
Has all been borne by me.”

Out of this inn what shall I do?
When I am gone - what then?”
The innkeeper will care for you
Until I come again.”

My Friend - how I shall miss your face!
Why must you go away?”
I’m going to prepare the place
Where, with me, you shall stay.”

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