he ran away, long ago
told his father
he wished he was dead
took his inheritance
everything he had
and journeyed far
he looked for pleasure
squandered recklessly
whirled from
party to party
was drunk on more than wine
but it couldn’t last forever
his money was gone.
a famine came.
suddenly, he didn’t know what to do.
he wallowed in mud and shame,
seeking to forget
to find solace in mindless drudgery
nothing satisfied,
not even the pods the pigs ate.
~~~~
he ran away, long ago
told his father
he wished he was dead
took his inheritance
everything he had
and journeyed far
now he asks himself
why?
wasn’t it better back there?
so now he rises from the mud
pushes through the grunting hogs
tells the farmer,
I’m going home.
He runs homeward,
unsure of what will be his welcome
but knowing anything
even being a servant
in his father’s house
is better than the pigsty.
~~~~
he ran away, long ago
but now he’s coming back
trudging up the dusty road
thoughts chasing themselves
around
and
around
as he tries to think of what to say
Father--
I am sorry?
no, that won’t work.
Father--
I’ve sinned against you?
better.
but still not quite right.
Father--
he realizes,
his sin was greater than he thought
not just against his father
but first
foremost
against heaven.
Father--
I have sinned against heaven
and before you
I am no longer worthy
to be called your son
Treat me as one of your...
hired servants.
satisfied, he rehearses it
perfects it
(or so he thinks)
and trudges onward
~~~~
he ran away, long ago
and now he's coming back
and as he nears home
his feet slow
he stops for a moment
afraid of what will happen
but
there is no time
for further fear
his father had been waiting
looking every day
watching for when
he would come home
and now he runs
to welcome back his son
says,
you, my son,
were lost and are found
you, my son,
were dead and are alive
and all the house rejoices.