The Missionary

White robes glide through the dark,
Like wolves encircle a stranded soul,
Preaching the fable of Noah's ark,
A million stories still left untold.

A touch of gold and holy water,
Then their sins are far behind,
And the poor heathen shivers in tatters,
Sleeps in hunger with a weary mind.

Holier than thou, he stands tall,
He the judge of human actions,
The tatterdemalion's back is to the wall,
In his heart a flurry of emotions.

Nailed to the cross the beloved son,
His sons they run their minds will,
Rots in pain the innocent one,
While the messengers shoot to thrill!

On the parish's head the heathen's curse,
But a touch of gold to keep moving on,
We shed a tear, Humanity's hearse,
Carries on with a funeral song..........

Lead me to Light

Lead me to light, Oh Dear One!
Sobs in pain your once mighty son,
Hold my hand and I'll follow,
My deepest fears I can swallow,
Defenestrate my fraidy thoughts,
Lighten the heart that now rots,
Lead me through the darkest jungle,
Where on fears unknown we stumble,
Swerve with me the hairpin bends,
Hold me from falling and defend,
Hover above to punish my insolence,
Cajole me out of my imprudence,
Do what you have always done,
Just stand by your needy son,
Can't imagine how much I long,
To rest my head against your arm........