Monday Morning Poetry, December 25

Entryway by Bert Kimura courtesy of Flickr.jpg

Zacchaeus’s Song

 

We each have our song to sing,

be it a hymn of weal or woe.

 

Today I met a man named Jesus.

He came to our town of Jericho

not to stay, I heard, but just to pass through.

But he stayed, stayed at my house,

despite my being known as a sinner.

 

He gave us a gift, the gift of freedom,

an awareness of love, the grace of acceptance.

He called it salvation; I call it joy.

 

So I sing my simple song,

a tune of gratitude, a hymn of praise.

 

When the wind blows here in Jericho,

I hear the song in the leaves of the sycamore tree.

 

Robert Morneau