There is an old fable
about a hill
which smoke lands on
which shakes at its footsteps
which speaks in a voice like thunder
.
i have found the mountain
i stand at the base
i hold a ring in my clutched fist
i shake off my shoes
the sand burns my feet
.
the wind wips my hair
my heart pounds in my chest
i take a step
COME
i take another step
ONE
my throat closes up
WHO IS
like a fist pushing its way up from my heart
BLESSED BY MY FATHER
i have swallowed my pride
TAKE
i have forgiven every sin against me
YOUR INHERITANCE
i have spoken good about those who have betrayed me
THE KINGDOM PREPARED FOR YOU
i have gone without rather than take the path of deception for pleasure
SINCE THE CREATION OF THE WORLD.
i reach the table prepared for me unshaken
He stands there waiting for me
He shimmers
light
His train wraps the mountain with glory
He cuts one of His victories off
and wraps it around my slender shoulders
He wipes the tears from my cheeks
He accepts the ring
He places it on my finger
He kneels and replaces my shoes on my feet
King of Kings
Lord of Lords
.
i stand at the foot of the mountain
my mouth dry
“Do as i have done“
I am forced to kneel
“Are you the son of God?”
I tell the truth
even when it hurts, “i am”
i take the scorn
i am spat upon
i am jeered – the words ring in my head
i am beaten
Rough wood falls on my shoulder
i grasp it.
i walk up the hill –
“Forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
