Christ On The Village Green

 

On the green,
He clearly has been portrayed,
Crucified,
A Jewish Messiah,
On a Roman cross,
In an English village,
2000 years later,
Whilst the tractors,...
And commuters,
And delivery vans,
Glide by,

His stone eyes,
Are fixed,
Not on the glory that is set before him,
But on,
A silver GT Golf,

A pigeon sits stupidly,
On his crown of granite thorns,
And blinks at the saviour,

An octogenarian wheels by,
Her tartan shopping trolley,
And, once the squeaky wheels,
Have passed from stony ivy'd ears,
He is left alone again,
'Till the VW is moved,

Out of place,
Out of our minds,
Life goes on about,
And without you,

How can you be the background?
What goes around,
Comes back round,
And I have noticed you,

Reach out,
Your stone hand,
Come down from that cross,
Come down,
And talk with us,

Oh preacher of Palestine,
Be mine,

In Islip,
I slip

 

 

 

 

M Joseph Burt

29.06.06 (written in Islip, Oxford, On the village green)