I would not come here –
There is no room; the world is rife
with ruffians and vagabonds. Our king
is in the pocket of our captors. The Roman peace is an uneasy lull,
a brief reprieve from wars which we are bound to fight.
In this bleak land,
that which is good and right soon chokes;
it cannot grow.
No infant – even one so pure –
can thus remain. This wicked place
is sure to stain the spotless soul.
Best then to go, to leave this awful place alone,
for it is like to die; if only it would sink in on itself
without even a whimper.
Would that the world could slink into the night
and die.
This is no home for a new life.
No,
I would not come here.
But I would come to you,
Beloved.
Who needs a healer but the sick?
Who needs a pardon? Not the well-behaved.
I am the Holy One who rescues the depraved
and makes them well.
For me creation wails; it calls its Lord to seek
the straying sheep,
to be their door and their defense
and guide them to the Way.
I knock; I knock –
Unlock your heart. Let me be God
with and in you –
your Light, your Life,
your peace, on earth to stay.
I AM,
and I
will meet you here.