The one we call the Lord of Life
happened by unexpectedly,
the other day.
Not slow to recognise
his cosmic significance,
we set about making him welcome;
with one of our number
engaging him in light conversation
over a cuppa and some scotch fingers.
The rest of us set about tidying up,
sorting out and clearing away;
making sure the right books
were prominent on our shelves,
and gathering up the gossip mags
to replace them with more worthy
intellectual and philosophical offerings.
Only after turning the wireless
to Radio National,
did we each grab a cup
to join him at the table.
He held out his arms in greeting,
grinned, said he’d been waiting.
and referred obscurely
to someone called Martha,
whoever she is.
Then he spoke plainly
of mysteries, grace and love;
and we all listened.
© Ken Rookes 2013