The Prodigal One
Scorching heat awakens the man
No outline of large tents offering sweet cakes, soft pillows, and shade
No sign of attending figures who embrace and kiss their lost one
No drops of the many wines that flowed till well into the night when
Large glittering stars camouflaged the velvet-black heavens…
No remnant of the feast that fills his belly still,
He recalls he is ‘…yet a long way off…’St. Luke 15:20
His lean sun-baked form rises from the burning sands
Dry eyes scan the horizon
He mindlessly rubs the jeweled band on his finger
Proof that all was not a dream
That a father waits and watches
And will come forward again and again to refresh him
The son renews his journey westward
Walking back the sins
He has put between them.
Michele Marie
