All the time, questions.

They assembled their questions
and laid them before him.
Some wanted answers,
reaching towards enlightenment;
for others the goal was to snare and entrap.
Some questions were honest, others devious;
a few asked after truth,
for others the answers were of no account.

Who is he,
why has he come?
By whose authority,
when is the hour,
which is the way,
who can be saved,
what do these things mean?
Who is my neighbour?

The man poses questions of his own.
He does not wait for an invitation;
he asks, who are you, what will you be?
Will you come and love,
and weep, and give?
Will you stand? If you fall,
will you rise and live?
Will you dare?

Questions;
all the time, questions.

 
© Ken Rookes 2014

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