My Prodigal

March 11, 2013
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I give you everlasting life.

You hated life

The wages of sin is death

You conquered death

Suicide by cyanide.

I stood at the door and knocked

You don’t answer.

I walked in

I find you in the oven.

And you saw me and smiled.

And you laughed

And gave me roses.

I don’t understand.

I’m not loved by all people

But those who do love me, serve

With their minds bodies and souls

I love you. I love even you.

Take my hand.

Don’t turn away.


You can’t live by dread alone.


You shrug your shoulders.

You’ll figure it out.

Or you could trust me.

Blessed are the meek

You quiver and stand weak

I will carry your yoke

You don’t have to choke.

Drink, child, from my fountain

You will never thirst again.

Put down your bloody wine.

Spill it like my vital liquid

Which ran down a splintered tree.

I’m sowing seeds

You’re growing weeds

If that in your rocky heart.

I’m sewing wounds

You’re cutting anew,

Such a pretty white

Wrists you had-

I have scars too.

I stand at the door and knock

You didn’t answer.

I knock the dust from my sandals,

And go forward

To heed my true child’s prayer.

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