April 22nd, 2008

A Prophet.

He sees the rose of dawn shine through the mists
where others see but hazy desperation.
He has been shown a better land exists,
not far, across the river’s bifurcation.

He must arrive before the break of day
and lead the helpless groping in the night
and gather all the sheep that went astray
for later none may enter ‘neath the light.

He hears the voice now, calling from the island
it speaks in tongues, that all may heed its lore.
He rushes them to leave behind the highland
and board the ships awaiting on the shore.

They set across, he watches from the strand
For he shan’t tread upon the promised land.