By reading now, you come to be
Back to when my hand did spin
Words scratched on parchment soft
Remembrance of my own past lost

In the land that gave birth to me
There was a king who built
Strong walls and fountains fine
And acknowledged the right divine

As all kings, he was not to see
His crown’d son’s failed strife
Where he straightened, son deformed
And what he praised was now to scorn

It seems to common tragedy
Set his sword dark against
My brothers killed most vile
And set me adrift, lone exile

His energies are without neglect
For nothing divine is partiality
And there is no want for water
No stone in the path of the walker
Or does He more, the king respect
But to all who know the poor
From heaven’s frame bless’d perceive
Earth’s bound waters then set free
For some a cleansing did elect
Other’s feet lost, began to drown
This unexpected tragedy
Hard on them it fell and suddenly

Departing from the homely house,
I started by naming the nameless ones.
Walking with each in his own way,
I became to the world the word of law.
Speaking mighty wonder-whispers,
I grieved into my own heart and shuttered.

I noticed not the smell of rotten
Foaming unseen about my hands and mouth.
I answered not yet secret crimes,
Running long into the night of fell flesh.
I remember how wet the wound
Spilling my pride onto the naked ground.

Ignite my despoil’d rags, ashen me;
I cannot bear the weight of memory.
Give me to drink clearest water;
I have a mouth poisoned of salted stones.
Arise my hope, come to my aid!
I know not one who has ever known me.

Went on down to the man
   Who was sent up to meet me
Told him true my name
   And asked him for the same

“Justice” how he began
   And then moved in close
Asking directly with a nod
   ”Doesn’t a fool like you fear God?”

I then recalled how I ran
   From that apparition
But answering from dismal pride
   Within my shame I did hide

Holy Angel’s gazing can
   Pierce that mask we bear
Once you’ve gone and invited in
   That which has always been

Listen now my simple plan
   Waiting there, growing old
To keep the vigil oil burning
   ’Til I see again the face of yearning

This keeper of peace feared but
   the Lord and gave to the poor
In evening prayers while others
   would rest, he with eyes beheld
A living messenger clear
   appearing, spoke his name

Bread from heav’n, not as of old,
   but for more than just the day
Eating his bread and drinking
   of wine gives life and living
Firm monument for prayers
   cast into the ages of ages

Hard is this speaking, who can
   hear it and avoid offense?
What would you say if heaven
   parted and you saw yourselves?
Walk swiftly to the temple,
   and hear account of a sight

From the rooftop each looks clean
   and yet nothing is secret
None can know ’til it’s shown;
   once seen it cannot be unseen
Chance to know what all believe
   hidden; rise up, pray, and breathe