“Oh soldier, my soldier,” GOD calls out from the forest. In the leafy greens and cerulean creeks, surrounded by birds and bumblebees, sits a soldier by Dei’s stream. His forearms over his knees, with chainmail as his sleeves. He wears a helmet of iron, looking through dark little slits, at the dandelions and daisies, and how their petals flick.
“My child, My beloved,” GOD whispers through the reeds, a misty fog creeps up the warrior, through tiny holes it creeps. A spirit lingers among the branches, aware of every sound. It is everywhere and somewhere, a spirit with little sound. GOD strolls through the wilderness, looking for his lamb. And that’s where he found him. And took him by the hand.
“Oh lost lamb, I’ve been looking through the high and mellow creaks. I have searched from dawn to dusk now, I’ve found the one I seek.” GOD hovered round the man, until the knight gave in, raising up his voice, though silence he was in.
“Your lamb, you call me, yet You have nothing to herd. I’m here and unmoving, I’m a tree and I’ve been rooted. How long can You circle me, like a lion on a hunt? You know that I’m unyielding, I’ll slander You if I must.” The soldier replied in his poetry, words twisting the knife. But GOD saw through his heart, and responded with no spite.
“I’ll circle you a million years and wait until you fall. Then I’ll catch you in my arms and answer when you call. I’ll take the slander to My name, and I’ll wait until the day that you find Me and knelt down you say, ‘Lord take my pain away’. I’ll turn your armour into streets of gold, I’ll collect all of your tears. You shall hunger no more, nor shall you thirst; I shall feed you and lead you unto living fountains of waters. This I promise forevermore.”
Then with weeds and sombre creeks, the knight sat there with no steed. Alone the soldier thought he was but GOD still circled, an echoing verse. “Away from me, Lord, I’m unworthy,” the soldier said, without an apology.
“I forgive you, child. I take you in, a meal and drink you’ll have your pick. Once unworthy, by Son you are, now take the Crown, the Crown of Glory. I am the GOD who was and is and is to come, nothing will change that. Nothing, my son.”
It isn't a poem but it sure feels like one
