That man,
he spoke.
His words were kind,
thoughtful,
sometimes helpful,
and comforting.
The fearful, the desperate,
they listened.
They were
not afraid.
So many gathered
to listen
that the King,
the jealous King,
took notice.
The King seethed
with contempt.
“No one, no one
should garner
more interest
than me, the King.”
And so, the King
spoke louder
and longer.
And he mocked
the man,
the man who
spoke kindly
and thoughtfully.
The King’s men
took cue
and arrested
the man.
To please the King,
they muddied
and beat the man.
They further mocked
the man by
dressing him
as a fool,
as a would be King,
with a crown
of thorns.
The fearful
and the desperate,
who had listened
and felt comfort
from the man’s
thoughtful words,
Were suddenly
paralyzed with dread
of what next
might happen
to him.
Their fear was not
without cause.
The King’s men
strung the man up,
along with two
of the desperate.
The lesson was clear.
Do not upstage
the King.
Listen only
to his words,
to his thinking.
But the fearful
and the desperate
were not comforted
by words from
the King.
The King’s words
were not thoughtful,
nor helpful,
nor wise.
The King’s words
were only about himself,
about how
great a King he is.
That King of yore is
still with us,
with us many
times over.
“Listen to me,
listen to me,”
he insists,
she insists,
they insist.
But their words
are not thoughtful,
not helpful,
nor comforting.
Not like those
of the man
they muddied
and beat and
mocked with
a crown of thorns.
That man they mocked
is still with us, too.
Though maybe not
speaking with
as many voices
as would be
truly helpful,
and comforting,
and inspiring
of thoughtful
kindnesses
of our own.
|
Friday, March 2nd, 2018
Julian
CA
USA
|
