The Harvest II

Let us go down  to Bethel
And  Gilgal and
Worship  there. No, no, the
New  ones say, not
That way  - here, come
This way  towards truth and
Repentance, towards the face of
Our  one true God.  Drop
The  dead things in your hands,
Their inner fire and humming
Wires are fake - they will not
Bring you truth and
Clean hands. Come
This way, advance, do not
Recycle the mistakes of
Our  past. Set up no more
Idols in your hearts that
Suck  your senses and have you
Recline in their arms - forswear
The  gold in your pillows and
Rise to the dawn your eyes can
Not  yet see. Turn and look -
There is the way -
To  freedom and
The  free, not
Servile drudgery at the
Behest of foreign men.

Our  cause will win
For  it is good and just.
In our one true God we
Trust and he will
Do  us no wrong  - he
Wants  us to come to
Fruition, be golden
As  the corn, soft
As  the hreeze, lithe
And  supple as trees
With  the fruits of our own
Harvest
Heavy  in our hands.

previous poem