PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

We loved that Bible Teacher, and the lessons that he taught.
He told us how to find the spiritual life.
He spoke in words a poor man can remember.  Even now,
they bring my soul to peace amid the strife.

We grew up on the same road and went to the same, small school.
His folks had been here just as long as mine.
He learned the family business, and he worked an honest day.
But, way back then, we never saw a sign

that he could teach.  One time, you know, I liked a local girl,
and he went out one day to help me fill
a basket of her favorite flowers.  And he has been a friend
to both of us (she's married to me, still).

He had a sense of humor, too:  he loved a funny joke
as long as no one got their feelings hurt.
And if you made somebody sad, especially children, he
could give a look that made you feel like dirt.

I found it comforting that he could know my troubled heart---
as well as yours, and that man's next to you.
And he could make the Scriptures leap and dance like living things,
just what the Lord intended them to do.

He often ate with us, and he could sure put it away.
My wife re-filled his plate four times, one night.
And then he'd step outside to toss a ball with my two boys.
He threw it slow so they could catch it right.

I wished, then, he had not gone on that last run into town.
His enemies had laid a dirty plan.
I think he knew it too, but went on in there anyhow.
And what cruel things they did to that poor man.

They took his life.  They didn't even bother to conceal
the act.  They killed him, publicly, and proud
that all the world should know what animals they were.
We heard they put him in a borrowed shroud.

But, first day of that week, when they came by to check the grave,
they found it empty as their heads.  How odd
that they could not accept for certain what we long believed:

THAT OUR FRIEND JESUS IS THE SON OF GOD!
 
Starward
 
[jlc]