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At The Front Gate Of The Retired Pro-Consul's Estate
[inspired by Donald Mason's poem, "All Roads Lead To Rome, 1: Slave Girl"]
Today,
you need no longer fear that you shall die in Rome.
You are ill, and Brother Luke will attend to your health.
You are beautiful, and no one shall violate you.
You are weak, and we have plenty of food and water here
(not as the world offers, then withholds, to punish).
You are frail, and we shall provide you strong shelter.
Today,
the retired Pro-Consul, Sergius Paulus,
purchased this whole lot of slaves, giving a
better price (in gold) than obtained in Rome.
This is his estate, and now your home
as long as you wish to stay, for you are now free
Here are new garments. (Ah, I see you dislike shoes.
We have a meadow here, full of wildflowers,
for barefoot walks---like the Pro-Consul's granddaughter
adores---when you are feeling better.)
This place is far from the
lions, rapists, and whiplash of Rome.
Your silent tears, I think, saved your companions
from all variety of enslaved death.
And Christ's power, I think, arranged the entire event,
when the slave caravan passed by at the very moment
that Sergius Paulus had stepped out for a breath of fresh air.
That driver who slapped your face in front of him,
when you began to cry?---well,
the Pro-Consul noticed him at once and . . . later
(out of sight from you and the others) . . .
well . . .
behind that line of hedges over there,
those iron-like Pro-Consular fists
nearly beat the fat fool unconscious
for having struck you the way that he did.
Yes, the Pro-Consul is a Christian,
led to Christ years ago by the great Apostle.
But he is also a man of decisive action,
sometimes sudden, and never afraid to
right an obvious wrong, no matter whose.
And a young girl's suffering is always a call to action,
at least to a man not ashamed of his manhood.
Sometimes that requires a well-swung, iron-like fist.
Many of us Christians live on this estate,
and I think you will be happy among us.
Bethesda, the Pro-Consul's granddaughter,
invites you to share her room with her
and (when you are well enough to go again outside),
take a casual, barefoot walk-around with her,
to introduce you to the neighborhood's boys.
Starward
[jlc]
WOW...You really have gotten me to see the other side of the fence on this poem. I put myself in the girl's shoes. Your poem is so much different from the ones that I normally see. The way that it opens a heart to the free world after being enslaved and beaten, shows me that there is always hope to change what one is and become what you want to be. Something that I am still coming to terms with but in time I know I too will be free like the one in you writing. I too will find my safe place in this world and a meadow full of wildflowers to walk barefoot in.
Thank You so much for sharing this with me. It has given me much to think about.
As Always, all the best to you,
Autumn Shanna
This is a very beautiful poem. I am sure you can touch many more people with your words. Rae
Jere,
Such a beautiful reply to Donald's poem. I had a heavey heart reading his, it brought tears to my eye's. This one brought sunshine back into my heart and you did such a beautiful piece. I pictured myself that girl as I read your poem and it made it all the more beautiful... A beautiful heart saved by a christian heart.
Thank you for directing me to this poem and to Donald's
Peace and Love walk with you always
Judy