It’s not for me to know but to sense.
– Jim Harrison
The Prodigal’s kensho was told, not
shown –  when he came to his senses.
For most that skins the scene leaving
nothing but a mental reckoning, a
sermon crumb too easily swallowed.
These things ought not to be so, for
the younger smelled bread baking
nearby and tears wet his caked face,
he winced leaning against a faded
splintered fence, a far country’s cry
from once slept beds of ease, while
the unknown tongues of swine had
no translator but his father’s low
whisper rattled marrow-deep in
beggar’s bones: son, come home.
Then the bitter taste of the older’s
resentment, that if he was lucky
might soften and sweeten once
again to the laughter of boys. 

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  1. Carolyn Counterman on November 6, 2011 at 6:08 pm


    • thebeautifuldue on November 6, 2011 at 10:40 pm

      Gracias…hey, your books are on their way.

      • Carolyn Counterman on November 6, 2011 at 11:08 pm

        You’re sending a nice, long hand-written letter along too, right? 😉

  2. Leah Downs on November 6, 2011 at 10:07 pm

    Never, ever, ever read a more moving grab- your -heart, catch -your -throat, inhabit- the -prodigals’s -world rendering of a story told so often we lose not just the import, but the wonder. And you showed us a glimpse of the things we are never told in the Book (and don’t pause long enough to imagine) brothers restored to each other with innocence redeemed. God not just snatching life from death, not just mending fences,not just forgiving and forgetting, but making something NEW, entirely unique – better than what was; more precious, and poweful because the Master pick-pockets the Thief just as he opens the purse to revel in his snatches. That’s what I think when I read this. Good grief, what a voice He has given you!

    • thebeautifuldue on November 6, 2011 at 10:42 pm

      Thanks, Leah…I’ve always been fond of folks who say ‘good grief’…

      • Leah Downs on November 9, 2011 at 3:57 am

        Interesting that you like the phrase. I don’t know anyone else who says Good Grief, can’t recall how I came to use it, but it’s my exclamation of choice.

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