A new telling
from the lips of one
who is himself a new telling.
A word, a message unexpected,
a love-letter declaration of commitment
and embrace from above.
A new telling by which the man calls his friends
to generosity and joyous sacrifice.
“You’ve heard it said,” he sometimes taught,
“But now I’m telling you. . .
Now I’m telling you
that if you’re going to stay my friends
then you will have to look a bit ridiculous,
you have to love,
you have to give.”
A new telling,
to up-end creation
re-fashion human relationships
and make the powers shudder.
A new telling; unexpected and difficult,
but then, he’s not asking you to do anything
that he wouldn’t do himself.
To make the point even more inescapable,
the teller stretches out his arms,
writes the word on the parchment of his skin,
and underlines it with his blood.
© Ken Rookes