Geometric Allegory

He showed you the vineyard And spoke in ancient Hebrew. T ranslated,  He said,  "The vines--ancient and rooted--form a fabric mesh." You stood among the tangled vines,  And He showed you a vision Where modern men toiled in place, And they watered the vines.    Who were these working men?  Were they the ones who toiled and labored  To carry the enormous engraved ceramic jugs?  These jugs were filled with the waters  That sprung from their hearts.   These were the same men who  Poured their poisoned waters  There upon the fields,  And the fields swallowed their hatred and lust  As if it were water. The vineyard is no metaphor.   It is the entire world,  And the men, those alive and those dead, a ttend its needs As they've always done,  Each in his own way. This vineyard is where the wars began  When man fell from God  And traded fertile soil for dust.  Dust to dust Amid the ash The men in suits  Earned their cash  In dust to dust. Because of them, We learned to swallow di

And Give it to You (playing a game of tag) ______________________________________________ All the crazy folks Claim that they see messages Hidden in the words. If I cracked a code That showed me another world Am I then crazy? And if I'm crazy It doesn't really matter. Maybe it was real. Maybe I did see The thing they won't believe in. I know what I saw. I tell you this now. God spoke to me one April. He told me the Truth. I never believed In anything religious Until that moment. Then and only then Did I fall down on my knees And recognize God. I wish I could put Into words all that I saw To make me so changed. I wish I could share The experience I had And give it to you.

I’ve grown a big bushy beard And I love it. In an era where men would rather not impose, I push my bristly beard next to you. Some men are shaved. Their skin is red and raw, But I don't care for them. I like the men on the bicycles With their unshaved faces. They ride at a steady pace,  And when I look at them, for just a moment I think about colliding particles And how close we can get And how close can we be   in this human life. My beard is thick and aggressive. It never apologizes. In fact, my beard refuses to push in the chair or clear the plates. My beard takes up the whole 45 years of my face. I've earned this beard and this beard has earned its place Here with me, Grown thick and wiry and frenetic In Valhalla. It shouts "no" Now deal with it. This is my beard. My face is not clean shaven and hairless Like some young well-rounded moon. My face is hard like a Viking's sword And it strikes bold against the world.