A Vision (of a Sort)

“Indian no stink!  White man stink!” Said Tonto to the Lone Ranger. Ah but what did he know? Who has the right vantage point? Nobody on matters of style and dress! But on the issue of justice There is one source amidst us; The very Word of God in print! You can read it; come out of the din. Leave your foul ways Come out of your sin! .  . . And the souls were like children Anxious for some thrilling event. He kept a steady look downward As they peered now to Him And now back to the sight below. Jesus was in His conventional robe With a beard as I recall, But maybe not; does it matter at all?

0635 on 19 Oct., 2022

(It was early, six ante meridiem, and I was looking by the light as it slipped through the blinds of my window.  A vision of angelic beings came to mind:  they were peering down anxiously, excitedly, from a great balcony in heaven, trading glances with one another in anticipation of their descent.  Then onto a morning of meditation, prayer and poetry writing.)