Monday, March 5, 2012

Driving out



The bad religion dealers

are gathering their stock,

investing in security

and trusting key and lock.


The bad religion traders

conspire in desperation

they’re making plans to overcome,

correct the situation.


They know the Teacher’s coming

they’ve felt the voice and whip.

Their pleasant life is overturned;

he’s shooting from the hip.


The scattered coins lie gleaming

strewn rudely on the floor;

while safe assumption’s ripped away,

sweet comfort’s out the door.


Table legs point to the sky

the sheep, they are departing;

ignoring indignation’s cries,

the Teacher is just starting.


The bad religion brokers

are exiting the temple;

they’ve seen the walls, the fractured stones,

they disregard the people.


The Teacher sees the kingdom,

there’s love behind his rage;

he shouts life’s possibilities;

the dove has left its cage.


The bad religion vendors

dealing life diminished,

sad and anxious, cheerless, mean; their

fearful trade is finished


The walnut, it is cracked now,

the old religion’s broken;

barriers are thrown aside, the

roads to life are open.


© Ken Rookes 2012

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