by Kim Aasland (December 2020)
The priests
Mysterious, alien, other
Those blasphemers!
Their souls were ignited by a sign in the sky.
Propelled by an unknown force
Deep called to the deep
And they, in hope, followed they knew not what.
The king
Righteous, powerful, established
His soul hardened by whispers of an unknown usurper
Clenching, he drove his plan to crush
He could be cunning, everyone knows that’s what you have to be to survive
And he extracted the deadly information.
The child
Unknowing yet knowing
Light of exceeding great joy
Delighted in the worship of those who knew him not.
Those who heard his music in their souls.
Those who searched for the treasures in the darkness.
It is the hidden places that matter.
The surface is for this earth.
Come to him, those who perceive signs.
Come to him, those who dream.
Come not as a king to a Child.
Come as a child to the King.
Apart from Me 