Tuesday, September 6, 2016

Suffering Bishop




He tangoed with the world

And they loved him from the pulpit

Spoke the layman's tongue

Pacing oft their aisles close by

Used to love the Greek

And its marvelous precision

Used to woo his pipe

As the smoke rose to the sky

Had a faithful wife

Who would laugh and thus relieve him

Had a humble start

In some store-front dens of prayer

Rose in rank ascribing

To Church calendar's dictation

Still the people's hearts

Were his major love and care.

“Bishop” soon they called him

But heart still in the sheepfold

Bleatings much preferred

To the policies of men.

Bibles less and less

Made the fount of life's solution

Could they ever child-like

Hush ...and come to Christ again?

Soon things got still sillier

Changing holy writ and gender

Talking oft in circles

Of the marriage rite defiled

Making life an option

In the unborn pure and tender

Seeing not their Master

As He praised and hugged each child.

Then the word “retirement”

And the accolades and speeches

Happy pictures taken

And posted quick to Net

Looking back a landscape

With muddy trench and crater

Baffled how the Son of God

Would have the victory yet.


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