the mystery of light;
he shines into the darkness,
he chases in the night.
At one with creation,
at home amidst the dust;
the redness at the centre,
the fire and the rust.
At one with the people,
the tears and the chain;the wandering and homeless,
the loneliness and pain.
He does not shun the struggle,
dark thoughts or the questions;
embracing of the challengeand seeking its connections.
Comrade to the travellers
on wilderness journey;
searching for that pilgrim goal
through windings and through turnings.
Confronter of the wealthy
disturbing those who rule;
discomfort for the righteous,
the wise sent back to school.
Friend of peace-creators,
holding frightened hands,
at one with those who protest,
and those who make a stand.
At one with the rhythm,
the feel and the pulse;
seeing truth and all things good,
and weeping o’er the false.
Dust and spirit joining,
in love they are united,
reaching out to gather in;
the love, it is requited.
At home among the humble,
they know him by his voice,
he speaks of hope, of truth and life
for all who make the choice.
© Ken Rookes 2013
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