“…and you said no one would help me if I did not listen to that crowd!”

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Lenten Journey – Day 8
Biblical Scripture: Matthew 4:1-11
Open Invitation to Join Terri from
Cloaked Monk

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29-Feb-12: Matthew 4:1-11

Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. 2 He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. 3 The tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” 4 But he answered, “It is written,‘One does not live by bread alone,but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’… “10 Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written,‘Worship the Lord your God,and serve only him.’ “11 Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.

 

 

“….and you said no one would help me or feed me if I did not go along with all those others back there beyond the stable!”

 

 

Flop-Eared Boy tweaked onto the tail of flop-eared donkey friend

So both could edge and wiggle around the rocks to the tippy-top

So both might pause some littlest while to search for crumbs round the bend

So both might get unminding of grumbling inwards without sop.

 

 

Flop-Eared Boy dare not member of thieves selling corn on that far lane

Flop-Eared Boy dare not trember of old wives screaming of hunger to come

Flop-Eared Boy dare only twitter and twitch in membrance of Babe to train

Flop-Eared Boy and flop-eared donkey to member only angels with bowls of golden plum.

 

 

All friends turned in reaching for Flop-Eared Boy and flop-eared donkey in train

All friends turned to sing and hum and clasp those four ears in warm embrace

All friends turned and turned and turned until full circles of love and light did rain

On sprouts and trouts and snouts in ready for boy and donkey just then found in full light’s trace.

 

 

 

 

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STUMBLING INTO BERRIES WHERE WATER MIXES WITH OIL

 

 

 

BERRIES SERVED OVER OIL

 

 

Leaning each to each in dependence

 

Thirsting and hungering friends partake

 

Of dust and starlight in squints transcendence

 

Crawling stamping sniffing finding no lake.

 

 

Sparking light from soul to soul pushes the feet

 

Of those bearing the good news from baby’s eyes

 

Over all the rocks of night and scrapes to treat

 

Stringing as one pulled by the light of blooded skies.

 

 

First one tumbles, then one grumbles, then two stumble

 

Next three crumble neath twisted branch in sighing

 

Next all mumble “Babe showed us, Kings pushed us”: no fumble

 

Agreeing all rise as friends over one more hill crying.

 

 

Agreeing friends trip down in slide to beckoning bush

 

Bearing juicing berry shapes so promising of succour

 

Crowding the low scraggling fruited in crush

 

Stamping the lowly roots to feed all plucker.

 

 

What now the bow over slickery water so desired

 

What now the skirling pool so dressed in oil.

 

What now the oil coating cracked throats so mired.

 

What now the tied friends choke, “for Babe to toil.”