Friday, March 19, 2021

The Gray One

There once was a gray man, a gray coat he had.
A gray hat and a gray head, and in gray he was clad.
And he had nothing to hold, nothing to do.
Having nothing of pan, nothing of house but a pass through.
To sleep away from the cold, he could yet find a way.
He took gray pieces of cloth and placed care in their fray.

And one night he stirred and heard a bell ring.
Though it was faint, barely clear in the soft night appearing.
It rang with a magical sound, like a glimpse of faraway.
And the bell ceased not, as it sang its strange note to play.

As the bell rang in its lucid echoes, there came a man,
And he said to the gray man; Take this gray tree,
It grows easily the softest gray leaves.
And the gray man thanked him and he was glad.

The next twilight, the bell ringing in the distance.
A gray visitor brought the gray man a steed, without resistance.
And in those gray nights, the gray man obtained many things.
And in each night that bell rang, he thanked the bell that rings.

The gray velvet of the steed, the gray growing leaf,
From his new window, a thankfulness swelled inside.
In the air, from his gray chair, he gave thanks to his life.
And in the gray night, he surrendered love to his belief.

During the gray day, and into the evening he heard the bell.
Yet this time it was more beautiful than he could tell.
It carried a magic like trumpets, harps, and singing.
And the gray man stood still and heard more than the ringing.

And then the Lord came to him and said; Take my hand.
The smallest spark of light began from the grain of sand.
The gray leaves slowly showed a vibrant glistening green.
The edges of dwelling seemed lifted from shadow, finally seen.

A small ember glowed with yellow in shades of fire's hue.
And gold and amber brightened upon a sudden reveal of sky's blue.
The steed became a velvet brown and soft white, with eyes deep.
And the meadows sprawled out in all directions with dewy pink.

And in the night that fell, the indigo of its tone was beheld.
The walls of shade, that was once in the gray,
Fell away in the eyes of the man who would pray.
A release of something he had yet to know why he so dwelled.

And the man had a red coat, and a bright silver crown.
And he had emerald eyes and radiant rose in his face and brow.
Rainbows ran deep and ran in heights almost to white.
Reaching through space dark and into the light.
The music that he heard rang now far into the night,
Voids swept away, God loves so, and all things faded,
...He made bright.


©Iggy 1988

No comments:

Post a Comment