like wolves in new york city
he said his name was jesus
and I started following him
up the jersey shore
and though I’d never been
there before
I felt like I was in the right place
there were dozens of us
musicians and poets
landscapers and local artisans
walking side by side
and consumed by
one man without possessions
despite threatening winds
we trekked northward
toward sandy hook
a bay he preached about
days earlier when the
sun was much brighter
I can take you no further
he went on to say
(my days are always numbered)
and it was then and there
he set us free
like sheep amongst wolves
howling in new york city
february two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
This poem is interesting to me because it calls to mind many ancient and current beliefs systems, as well as ending in devastating chaos that also plays into some of the oldest spiritual systems of all.
thank you for sharing your thoughts – endings are subject to so many interpretations 😀
There is something haunting in that last stanza… almost like a false prophet of some kind… but on the other hands we are but lambs among wolves are we?
Yes, we certainly seem to be.
Reblogged this on The Darkness in the Light.