On air he walks this cloudy day,
No worries has he that may dismay,
Flowers and bouquets he reaches
Wrapped in parchments gloss,
Human souls have sculpted prayers,
Thousand upon thousand layers,
With psalms of kings poetic verse,
And righteousness it’s curse,
Lightly does he step he’s near cloud nine?
Or so it seems he so divine,
Then I noticed that he’s wearing,
A robe of clothe so sparing,
Stained it was with holes of blood,
I wondered where that robe he got,
He had a picture poster posted where,
Others of his ilk such posters share,
But then he didn’t murder him,
Himself with it he clothed, just on a whim,
Someone had told him hide in there,
And if you do, his holiness will share,
But why a thief would tell no lies,
Or wear a robe of heavenly disguise,
Repent that not was his desire,
Far too many efforts dire,
Thieves don’t work, they steal from others,
Their hard earned work not them bothers,
His grace for free, just faith you see,
That’s easy no need to work it’s free,
What you do to the least of me takes effort,
It takes living working to give what you afford,
It takes action to ask your soul,
To reach toward and fill that goal,
Most that I remember though his tribe,
Rather just that faith imbibe,
And if at all true works are needed,
To him that dirty work have deeded,
Run to church, pray every day,
Then pray and pray their sins to stay.
©Jasmin Horst E.P. Seiler, 18/03/2009
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Be always safe,
Karen
Fee
All the new Ali Baba have our fortune in their caves, but "Open Sesame!" will not move that heart stone. We will die poor asking "why?"
Georg
And there are far too many of them around, brother.