Oh, children of Nazareth! You have not looked of late
into each other’s eyes, as you rough about, kicking up the dust of centuries. And why should you know? Why should you know?
Cease not then your animal noise. Go make your little stampedes
among lazy herds of village sheep, who know you too well to fear you.Go have your fights, skin your knees, take your bruises,
keep your dithery pace with the blood that races in your veins.
Why should you know now of that blood’s power to speak
to nations and peoples yet unborn?
Crouched in a corner, you wait to catch the desert wind by the tail.
But it spurns your habitations and sends you back to yourlackluster streets to ply your meager trades, live out your meager days,
and sow your proud mortal seed, dream however you must.
Soon enough the last seed will be sown; age will slow you down –
foot companions to your beasts of burden.Not until then will you ever look, look deep, deep into each other’s eyes.
Then at last you may realize: You’re not all the same,
for time, in accord with its sacred offices, has sought you out,
yet to vindicate you, in the well-wrought life of Another amongst you more free, more knowing and more restless than even you.
To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website: enspiritus.blogspot.com. To know about me, consult the autobiographical entry on the website for Dec. 5, 2016.
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