Sunday, October 18, 2009
The sleeping Christ within the Cell
O how the prisoner loves his cell
how affectionately does he stroke the bars
whispering words of thanks
this concrete foundation of his
this groundwork of social conditioning
it is the bedrock of bedlam
but with the many years that have passed
how his body has contorted
to the shape of the lies he lays on
O how the prisoner loves his cell
how affectionately does he stroke the bars
whispering words of thanks
with great care he caresses the iron
these great restraints which bar out the unknown
how comfortably does he sleep
in the fortress of his limitations
king of his castle
even if his kingdom kills him
O how the prisoner loves his cell
how affectionately does he stroke the bars
whispering words of thanks
but for all his many precautions
the sunlight of truth
still pours through his jail wall window
by these rays of love is his heart warmed
for no bunker of fear is impenetrable
no cell of ego too warped to mend
One day this man will wake
only to find the rubble of his former way
strewn about him as the useless things they are
on this day this man will walk
clothed in the garments of Christ-consciousness
shining his light through the window of his brother
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