Hero

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Image: Liz Lemon Swindle

 

'For my yoke is easy and my burden light.' Matt. 11:30

 

 

The air is fanned with feather fronds

The ground is strewn with boughs

A makeshift carpet tells the way

And straightened path avows

 

I go surefooted as a goat

Upon the mountain heights

My precious cargo is a Lamb

Prepared for sacrifice

 

I know I am a stubborn beast

A lissom colt untrained

My pilgrim rides as we are one

My back is never strained

 

The sun beats down, my tongue is parched

A mirage slakes the eye

To go the second mile with Him

The mirage does not lie

 

The cry of jubilation swells

The crowds love a parade

Their conquering hero comes to free

Those mighty Rome enslaved

 

And is this whom my forebears shared

Their stable crude and stark

When heav'n bowed down to gather earth

And wheat-gold light quelled dark?

 

He goes towards his destiny

Where brutal malice stings

And history will ever tell

I bore the King of Kings!

 

 

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From THE TWAIN, Poems of Earth and Ether