The Emissary

By Cliff Lake

 

The Emissary

 

The Emissary was carefully chosen and prepared:

Sent to the conqueror’s homeland,

He was to appear affable,

Conciliatory,

Helpful,

And welcoming of the overlords.

A traitor.

What benefit could such a one provide?

How to help the land of his birth?

Certainly, he could placate the tyrant,

For a time perhaps.

Would that were enough.

For a despot soon tires of the toadying,

The simpering and groveling,

The obeisance and scraping,

And knowing a man

To have foresworn his birthright,

For a chance at his own comfort,

Even for the shortest time,

Would insure soon that man’s time,

Was indeed short.

Therefore, the Emissary was carefully chosen and prepared,

For it was known

He would break bread with the captor,

And drink of their wine,

And visit their markets,

And lay with their women,

And be among them as freely as allowed,

And be one with them.

An Emissary friendly to them,

Craven and weak,

Fawning and flattering,

And adoptive of his new asylum,

And embracive of his new compatriots.

Most of all,

To be embracive of these countrymen.

For before being collected by the oppressor,

He spent a fortnight in the company of lepers,

And associated with the ill and the dying,

And toured the plague camp,

And carried with him death delayed,

And hidden in his very flesh,

And went willing to his new home,

And made merry with the rulers…

The Emissary was carefully chosen,

And carefully prepared…

 

Cliff Lake 7/23/2024

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2024

Location: Wichita, KS, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

One Thousand Horsemen

By Cliff Lake
  One Thousand Horsemen   The call of an ally, A friend of old: “We ask your aid! Will you be bold?”   “Ancient terrors, Assail once more! Will you honor The oaths we swore?”   One thousand horsemen answer the call,   One thousand horsemen riding tall. One thousand horsemen, they prepare. One thousand horsemen, forth they fare.   “We have no word, Are we not heard? Are we forgot? Do you come not?”   “The terror hails, Our people quail! We are beset, Will you come yet?”   One thousand horsemen upon the hill, One thousand horsemen, duty they fill. One thousand horsemen make the climb. One thousand horsemen, are they in time?   “What do we hear? Is succor near? Have you arrived? Will we survive?”   “Hail faithful friend! Fear not an end! Our hope has come, Sound the war drum!”   One thousand horsemen, banners raised! One thousand horsemen, unafraid! One thousand horsemen, charging in! One thousand ho
Read more

The Edge

By Cliff Lake
  The Edge   Out on the edge… This is where we exist, A precipice, A future unseen and unknowable, An edge we constantly walk. Here on the edge, We step forward blindly, Though we tell ourselves That we have planned well, But the future, Has no regard, For the mere mortal. Walking the edge, We may not see, What falls lie before us, What chasms may claim us, Nor how deeply they lurk. But know this: We have the strength, To climb out of darkness, If we but dare the edge again. Fear not brother! You are your own savior, If you but make the merest try. Do not despair sister! The unlooked-for hand, Will reach for you yet! Remember: From the bottom, The only way is up. Forward is the only motion, Time is allowed, In this frame we inhabit. It is the step to the side, That carries you down, Out here on the edge…   Straight ahead then - The path is before you.   Cliff Lake 2/24/2024 Copyright © Clifford Lake 2
Read more

Used Up 'n Dried Up

By Cliff Lake
  Used Up ‘n Dried Up   You scurried away from your ancestral home, Let’s face it boy, you’re out there on loan. Your markers cashed in, no more favors to call, Winds of change blowing cold, house of cards to fall. Livin’ in a hotel, bumming dollars from the poor, Sellin’ your Chinese trinkets, maybe try it door to door. Your hands in everyone’s pockets, no more spare change for you, Keep on beggin’ at the dockets, that is what’s left to do.   “You’re on your own, kid.” That’s what they said. “You’re used up ‘n dried up; you’re bled.” “You’re out on the street, you’ve used up your cred.” “You’re on your own, kid.” That’s what I said.   Oh, how you fell hard for that dictator, A long-time, well-known master baiter. He always had you pegged as some petty clown, Just look at how he has jerked you around.   “You’re on your own, kid.” That’s what he said. “You’re used up ‘n dried up; you’re bled.” “Look at this crooked path that I led.” “You’re on
Read more