Prophet's Disguise

Prophet's Disguise

It was 1974. I walked up to a man with long brown hair and sandals
in a fast food restaurant.  I said, “Hello, Jesus.”  My mother was embarrassed as was he.
This might have been the first time anyone looked up to him that way.
I was only three at the time.

Isn’t it just like our culture to misunderstand the messenger?
We either shoot them or worship them. And women, we see as one of two Mary’s-
virgin or whore. And what about the witches of old?  Now we have their bestsellers
sitting on our nightstand and shows of the paranormal  saved on our TiVo.

If Jesus walked today, would he be diagnosed with something and given pills? 
Would he still look like a hippie?  If a scraggly man carrying a stick in the streets of a small town
knocked over a table selling sports team souvenirs in protest, would he be arrested,
Diagnosed, given a drug test?

What if your kid came up to you and said God told him to spread the word,
that He loves everyone, and we have it all wrong; that we’re supposed to take care of each other
not kill each other; include each other not shun and ignore. Would you listen?
Would he get a diagnosis and some pills?

What if all those prophets are sitting on the ground by a fire, scratching their heads saying,
“These silly grown-ups down there, when are they going to learn we didn’t bring them anything
they didn’t already have? C’mon folks, the students are getting confused, again.
Let’s go straighten this mess out.  Maybe this time the kids will listen.”

Except now, they have to walk among us wearing camouflage and wigs or else we’d flock to them
like tabloid photographers in Hollywood, catching sight of a star without  makeup
or a tacky track suit.  And what if all they really want is for a three year old
to see through their  disguises and call them by name?

SWPoet

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Old version below.














It was 1974. I walked up to a man
with long brown hair and sandals
in a fast food restaurant
and I said, “Hello, Jesus.”
My mother was embarrassed
as was the man, no doubt.
This might have been
the first time anyone
looked up to him that way.
I was only three at the time.

Isn’t it just like our culture
to misunderstand the messenger?
We either shoot them
or worship them. And women,
we see as one of two Mary’s-
virgin or whore. And what about
the witches of old?  Now we have
their bestsellers sitting on our nightstand
and shows of the paranormal
saved on our TiVo.

If Jesus walked today,
would he be diagnosed with something
and given pills?  Would he
still look like a hippie?
If a scraggly man carrying a stick
in the streets of a small town
knocked over a table selling
sports team souvenirs,
would he be arrested, diagnosed or
subjected to a drug test?

What if your kid came up to you
and said God told him
to spread the word,
that He loves everyone,
and we have it all wrong; that we’re
supposed to take care of each other
not kill each other; include each other
not shun and ignore. Would you listen?
Would he get a diagnosis
and some pills?

Wonder if all those prophets
are sitting on the ground by a fire,
scratching their heads saying,
“These silly grown-ups down there,
when are they going to learn
we didn’t bring them anything
they didn’t already have? C’mon folks,
the students are getting confused, again.
Let’s go straighten this mess out.
Maybe this time the kids will listen.”

Except now, they have to walk among us
wearing camouflage and wigs
or else we’d flock to them
like tabloid photographers in Hollywood,
catching sight of a star
with no makeup or a tacky track suit.
And what if all they really want
is for a three year old
to see through their disguises
and call them by name?

SWPoet

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