Ode to the Fallen Clown
The Friday before Easter as a child I was taught
That the time, twelve to three, should be spent
Pondering the cost of the ransom which was bought.
Redeemed slaves, indentured and absent
Any hope, the chattels of earth's prince, prodigals,
The Father opened-armed longed to see,
Were set free from their chains, rent by the miracles
Of unmerited Grace that was free.
If an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
Is the scale upon which all is weighed,
Then our plight was woeful, perilously uncouth,
Our raiment torn, tattered, and frayed.
Found wanting, unbalanced, fierce justice awaiting,
What mercy dared we hope be displayed
To avid partakers in riots creating
Such havoc, communion was betrayed?
It was here that despair displayed stunned disbelief,
The sentence expected was reversed!
Advocate in defense of my guilt sought relief,
(Recompense for my sins was the worst),
But nothing could be found, substitutes nonextant,
So He said the absurd to my ears,
"I give what's mine to give, 'eye for eye'!" Persistent,
He gave His life for mine without tears!
What a gift, Father's Love! Who would dare not respond,
What ingrate could despise such largesse?
It's certain I will fall from this place of new found
Restatement, and re-birth, I confess;
But this too, will be true, I vow not to stay down
As before, when alone in my mess,
For He has forgiven tomorrow's fallen clown,
Righted him, sent him others to bless.
As a twig is bent young, so a tree that way grows,
A bee line to the sky or askew;
An adult is the same, reviewing what he chose,
He can see his choices as they grew.
For some folks that Friday was the day to garden,
Potatoes to put in the deep loam;
But papa and his brood, in silence, sought pardon
On Friday before Easter, at home.
--Baron Gooberacht von Hottzendog
copyright 1998, The Goober Tree Press, all rights reserved