Walking the ancient paths
of my forefathers
from a favela slum
to the mountain summit
through fields of green
far beyond
the stormy weather
singing a gypsy hymn
petitioning the heavens
for a taste of that
ever loving
Kingdom to come
Never the right answer
Always the wrong question
Is Jesus Christ
the key to eternity?
After all is said and done
He’s the one
who rose from the dead
Maybe . . .
the baby of nativity
has been thrown out
with this world’s
dirty bathwater?
an art installation
in the middle of nowhere
floating
in a sea of nothing
CREATION
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they
will be called the children of God.” ~ Jesus
I just don’t care
who you follow
the stuff that you say
and what you think
that you know
In the deepest despair
from way down below
through haunted streets
I’ve driven that manic
and heavy traffic
to a place where
even the light retreats
And I’ve known
the sweetest caress
of a gentle whisper
that roared like a tempest
through my very soul
God said to King David,
“Sing me a song.”
King David said, “Lord,
I’ve got this face mask on!”
God said, “What!
You can just sit there
and self isolate
if you really want, Dave,
but the next time
Mother Nature sneezes
you’d better run!”
King David asked, “Where
d’you want this singing done?”
God said, “That clearway
out on Freeway Kingdom Come.”
Like a Rising Stone
A time for life
to seek
to be found
to feel
to be touched
to hear truth
how sweet the sound
to taste goodness
goodness to be tasted
To love
and to be loved
Without the Divine
a lifetime
truly wasted
I beg your pardon!
That’s a conversation
that never happened
Like Dylan
at the crossroads
selling his soul to the devil
for a musical bargain
Advice for yet another
next “New Bob Dylan”,
if you wish to save
your immortal soul,
and your vocal chords,
from certain oblivion;
David Redpath 