Weeds

Haiku for a dilemma

Weeds among the wheat,
useless seeds grow with the grain;
contamination.

Good seed was planted;
where, then, do the weeds come from?
Have to blame someone.

Better pull the weeds
lest their seeds blend with the good;
be responsible.

The master says, No.
You might damage the good plants.
We shall be patient.

Wait for the harvest,
then we’ll properly discern;
sort the good from bad.

The end of the age,
(whatever that means), is time
enough for judgement.

The righteous shall grow,
shine bright, and produce much fruit
in love’s fair kingdom.

Don’t be dissuaded.
Grow strong in the grace of God.
Bear the fruits of love.

 

© Ken Rookes 2017

Weeds

Weeds

It is too neat; this allegory-parable
of judgement, burning weeds and
the furnaces of hell.
It purports to be the words
of the itinerant teacher called Jesus.
Perhaps it is;
doesn’t make it right, though.
Does that shock you?
Feel free to pray for my soul
if it makes you feel better.

Too neat;
feeding the smug self-righteousness
of those who know themselves to be on the inside.
We are all weeds; we are all wheat.
There is no inside,
there is no outside.
We are the causes of sin,
we are the evildoers,
and yet it is not always so,
need not always be so.

May the righteous indeed shine like the sun;
let us all be reborn into truth.
And let the children of the kingdom
shine with love, with humility,
with justice and with grace.

© Ken Rookes 2014