Читать книгу The Invisible God - John J. Brugaletta - Страница 14

The rich young man speaks

I have more sheep and goats, more houses, slaves

than Job before disaster laid him low.

My wife is out of Solomon and bears

a stair-step line of children to my fame.

But here and there I see a boil upon

the smooth skin of my life, a sign that all

may one day, in a sudden wind, collapse

and leave me naked, unprotected, shamed.

I woke some nights ago and felt the hands

of doubt, of indecision, of my youth

that gripped my neck and told me I am small.

When dawn returned (how long the night can be)

I checked my wealth and saw fragility.

So when I heard a teacher was nearby

I went to him and caught Him on the point

of leaving us. I wanted some assurance

that my acts, which held to Moses' law,

were adequate to buy eternal life.

He seemed at first to ratify my goal

by listing those commands I had obeyed.

But when I said I'd kept them all my life,

He saw the wall of safety I had built

around my life: my wealth, my comfort, shield

against humiliation and decay,

and laid his hand of discourse on those bricks.

Allow me here to tear it all away,

He said, and follow me to deathlessness.

At once I saw myself as stripped and shown

for children's entertainment and for fools.

I saw myself again a shameful child,

embarrassed, disrespected and debased.

These crumbs of good, I thought, had kept me warm

thus far. Why lose this good to grasp at one

that was a promise only, one man's word?

So I declined and went back to my keep

and sat among my rotting palisades.

I later heard the Romans nailed Him dead,

but He revived. If that proves true, I'm lost.