The Cloud

The Cloud, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

A pouch of silver, a desire for more
My eyes saw the holy city main gate.
Sense of eeriness, I nev’r felt before,
From within a cloud, God announced my fate.

Without question, He called my name.
I grabbed for my chest, in terrible fear
Falling to the ground, as if to be lame
As each of His commands entered my ear.

Purchase the fallow flat land on your right.
Not a step closer to Jerusalem.
Grow the best wheat, grapes, and trees, on this site.
Will send my only son, listen to him.

His commands understood, but not the last.
Know not you have a son, my Holy Lord.
Will become known soon, by your questions asked.
He will come as King of Peace, not the sword.

With my inheritance, I purchased fields
Summing fifteen thousand square cubits, built
A small house and a barn, for the wheat yields
All was modest, with not a sign of gilt.

Row upon row olive trees, lift their arms
Along with the wind, sing praise to our God.
Soon they mature and show many green charms.
A sign of God’s true blessed work, held me awed.

Before the trees matured, grape vines gave fruit
Kissed by the sun each day became fine wine.
Buy my wine they do, on ques they are mute.
The years go by, and I’m without a sign.

Early on, wheat has given daily bread,
Which I thank God for providing this gift.
Each day I remind Him of what he said,
His Son He’d send. I’m eager so be swift.

Thirty Passovers ago I met fate.
In those years, I have been ever faithful.
Old and weak, time so little, I’m too late.
Yet still an empty seat at my table.

Roman soldiers with axes came today.
Chopped down six of tallest and strongest trees.
Why must you do this. Six coins fly to pay
For the trees. Crucifixion – made me freeze.

Road to the holy city is busy
People stop to buy my bread, wine and oil.
Some eager to talk, others too weary.
Quest for the Son, I continue to toil.

Crowds grow thicker, is time for Passover
In the crowd, was a man, whose eyes I knew,
Yet never met. One who was a drover
Of souls. Surely one to give me a clue.

Clos’r the stranger came to me, the more white
His clothing became. You know my father
He said to me. Body consumed with fright
Prostrate before him hoped thoughts to gather.

His hand offered, I took with fear, accept
Not a word said. Love moved from His body
To my frail old body with great adept.
Through His blessed eyes I was embodied.

In the shade of the olive tree, I sat
The Rabbi. Water and bread I did serve
To Him, and spread at His feet my worn mat.
Rabbi I do not know what I observe.

Jesus said to me, I am here to give
Those who believe in me life eternal
And though they have fallen I will forgive.
In the sight of Father they’ll be vernal.

You have followed Father’s many wishes
Is now my turn to do the very same.
Shortly Pilot and his militias,
Will kill me for the kingdom that I claim.

Rabbi, I know not how to address thee.
Jesus of Nazareth was his reply.
Feeling a touch, like a branch of a tree
on my shoulder, I quickly turned an eye.

He was known as James son of Zebedee.
Returning my head back. Jesus was gone.
Where is he James. Must know what I believe.
James said, must fulfill reason he was born.

Faithful to God I wish to be faithful
To his Son. Please let me follow your path.
To stagnate my life here would be wasteful,
Let me die for Jesus by Roman wrath.

My mule packed high with many a staple
And my frail gait quickly lengthened the space
Connecting groups, makes me late for table
Death sure to follow but must quicken pace.

Mule and I passed through, the holy city
Gate. James was able to take the burden
with others once beyond reach of gritty
guards harming Jesus’ people again.

James was shown the bags, that were not chametz.
They would be to prepare Passover meal.
Meeting place secret, we met near fish nets
Passover meal at table all would kneel

Jesus offers a new covenant – Love
I had part of my answers. Jesus held
Work of human hands wheat and wine above
His head declared his Father’s words upheld

Jesus’ disciples fought hard among themselve,
As who would have the higher position,
In the Kingdom that would start with the twelve,
All hear Him, it was heaven they wish in.

All of His disciples go to be with Him
To pray at Garden of Gethsemane.
My wretched crippled body is quite grim
So I prop it up to reduce the pain.

Heard yells and screams in many languages
From the window I saw a multitude
Of angry people doing damages
While others moved in distraught attitude
Far in the distance the sun bounces off
Spear tips and helmets of the Roman guard
Could I possibly approach them and scoff
They would drench me with oil and leave me charred

With an olive crutch found, the street was soon
Under my feet. Where does this crowd go I
Needed to ask. Golgotha in a swoon
The place of the skull I see with my eye

Trying to fight the crowd they knocked me down
Using elbows found my way to the edge
Heard the cry that the crowd could not drown out
Hammer banging to nail flesh to nail’s edge

It felt if it was mid-afternoon when
I reached Jesus. His soul had been given
Up to His Father for all who have sin.
With the new covenant we’re forgiven

Andrew helped me stand, got close to Jesus.
Kissed His bloodied feet and cross so holy.
While waiting I knew the Father sees us.
Thank you for your trust in one so lowly.

Published by

bobsieczkiewicz

Husband, Father, Grandfather, Lover of all beautiful things. I love to read and write poetry. My favorite hangouts are libraries and museums and yet I love being outdoors. I am a dreamer of things that could be.

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