Thursday, June 11, 2015

Poem a Day XI

St. Barnabas

On Cyprus shores did Barnabas
set down his knee to pray.
Perhaps his mind in memory
went back to mother's touch;
her loving calling of his name,
'Joseph', through the still air.
Or perhaps of a newer name,
giving comfort and hope,
a son of the true Paraclete.
Perhaps it was of Paul,
perhaps of Sergius Paulus,
or of a life's circle,
ending where it had once begun.
But on Cyprus shores Barnabas
set down his knee to pray.

On Cyprus shores did Barnabas
beneath carob-tree kneel,
in his hand a script of good news
by publican written.
In Rome and Alexandria,
In Milan, in Cyprus,
in Antioch, Pamphylia,
in Lycaonia,
throughout all of Pisidia,
the word spoke with his voice.
All human words will fail and fade,
to silence someday fall;
one Word alone endures always
to bring comfort and hope.
Thus on Cyprus shores Barnabas
beneath carob-tree knelt.

On Cyprus shores did Barnabas
kneel down to pray and die.

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