The man at the gate

[Byron]

I asked the man at the gate
“Who owns the gate?”
He replied that we all have a share
I asked the man at the gate
If my share of the gate
Was a Will or a shroud made of air
The man at the gate looked down from the gate
With the smile of a man unaware
Of his trust and his place
In the fate of our race
He replied “It’s the gift of your share.”

The man at the gate came down from the gate
And took hold of my hand, left or right,
It isn’t important to know which it was
The touch was enough for my sight
“Your share of the love that’s fed from above
Is yours to give as you feel”
“But I’m lacking in grace
And my shame cannot save
This soul whose fate you must seal”
“Your depths of despair
can allow your repair
To this house which Our Lord will reveal”

I looked at the gate
With the man at the gate
And we knew my desire was new
To enter these grounds
With less faith than those sounds
Of old priests and old monks, and of you?

The entrance shined bright
And the gate swung so light
As he stroked it without even looking
I had no chance to see
What was waiting for me
And I fled from the spot without stopping

“I’m not worthy of this”
I cried in the mist
As I stumbled on souls still ascending
I had given scant thought
To behaviour I'd wrought
In my life of bad deeds and offending

Immortal I’d been
Whilst a youth on the scene
Of the places I’d spent in my labours
I’d not needed my God
People feared where I trod
I’d not prayed on my knees, but my neighbours

The sins of my past
Were presented at last
As in terror each one had a mention
But a new friend stood by
Who had promised he’d try
To allow me to enter this mansion

I’d not seen him before
But his voice I am sure
Was one, which was vaguely familiar
I’d been hanging around
Thirteen feet from the ground
When he’d said “Do not worry I’ll save yer”

That’s what he said
But don’t take it as read
I was not in the best of condition
To recall every word
Would now be absurd
While reviewing my present position

I have cheated and lied
And stolen, and cried
To avoid the results of my actions
But the thing I now dread
Is my life that’s now dead
Will be weighed in the balance, in fractions

What I have to review
Is my heart really true?
And is it, truly repentance?
Is this genuine grief?
Or the remorse of a thief
Trying his best to avoid a long sentence

The man at the gate
Had shown me no hate
But a love, which I’ve never encountered
My new friend stood near
And I knew it was clear
From His face that he thought that I mattered

Such love, I’d not known
I had been all alone
In a world, where people despised me
I had struggled and fought
To survive, but was caught
Twixt my nature and He who could guide me

I have walked on this Earth
Since Adam gave birth
To the Eve who was tempted and banished
For accepting the fruit
Which has been the one root
That caused all of Eden to vanish

So now here I stand
And I offer my hand
To any who crave Our Lord’s Blessing
Do not be alarmed
By the holes in my palms
They’re a mark of the time I shared with Him

He has taken me in
He’s forgiven my sin
I am safe and the gate is still open
The man at the gate
Continues to wait
For you, should you wish to be chosen.

[George.Wright]

Fantastic epic of the Christ................very profound
Georges

[KRTEK]

REMINDS ME OF E.A.POE
GREAT RYTHM
KRTEK

[lizzytysh]

Rich and creative imagination, Byron. It sounds almost like a near-death experience. Forces one into re-evaluation of the ways in which we are walking this earth.

[Ben Kelly]

Dear Byron

A very strong statement and vision

Ben Kelly

[Makera]

Byron~ Thank you for bringing this exquisite pearl back to the front.

Love,
Makera