Monday, 22 February 2016
Christ in the wilderness by Stanley Spencer
Somewhere a curlew cried
gorse scented blooms filled the air
yellow with pollen.
On the path below walked a man,
I watched as he weaved an uneven path
stones scattered underfoot
as clouds scurried in a unimpressive sky,
in the distance the sheep dotted hills
sighed in contemplation.
My dark mood unfolded to the stranger
his unwelcome intrusion a nasty gash on my day
I set my stance proud as he approached,
when drawing level i asked his business?
His returning smile unnerved me,
he offered up a handful of daisies,
in his second hand lay a chick
feathers ruffled in meditative thought.
'I'm saving souls' he replied
while walking on.
This story eludes to a tale told to me years ago when i lived miles from anywhere in the Scottish borders, a visitor told that he had met God while walking the track to our house..i always hoped i'd meet him too, if I did he remained incognito.
For the other poets work go here.