Friday, September 14, 2012

La Conquista de mi Corazon per Iesus

What eyes are these that do despise?
My own, I freeze; in my heart the lies
That did once overgrow my walls
Now snare me, overthrow, my calls,
Are cut short, like a knife to the throat;
An evil cohort says that I've missed the boat...
I look up now, my face in the dust,
His eyes upon me, I trace the rust
Upon his crooked knife, and blanch...
The same knife I saw, strife, the ranch
Of my father, my mother burned alive,
My sisters killed, or I strive
With all my might I shake my body free,
The lies, the ropes, these vines, do flee,
And he, this copse yet still alive,
His eyes go wide! as a bee hive
That's suddenly burst aground; he strikes
His arm wild, a thrust that's sound. But shrieks
As the blow has failed to stop me in my tracks;
His body falls, his eyes atop the wall, the shacks
Around us now falter in his sight, he thuds
Upon the ground, his knife a rusty dud
That's crusted in my crimson blood. And I...
Well...I falter, busted in the chest; I die...

Wherefore did the runners go that cried
Out that a summer storm was fast at hand?
Wherefore did they run? If they had espied
It so as to flee from it as they had planned
Why not did they keep me in their company?
Why did they run? Wherefore did they flee?
Without their friend? Their love? Their prize?
Or was I merely that? A fund to their eyes
When times were broke, and money straight...
Now that I do give in and contemplate
My mysterious fate upon the ground where lies
The enemy that came in force, he whom I despise,
I wonder if they loved at all, these men, those boys...
Who treated love as if it were some child's toys.

Cross that fed me in my straight,
That kept me from my bitter hate,
Why did you see me do this act?
What could have made this into fact?
Realize, if you will, I lie upon the ground,
My body heaves a sigh of evil's making;
I cry to you without a single sound,
A sign that death is my body taking...

Did I act for the right reasons?
Did I this evil blot out with justice?
Will another benefit from my treason
Against the almighty? Will I meet with bliss

On the other side of this curtain vast?
Will I find myself in paradise?
Or shall he look upon me? An outcast?
And throw me like a man two dice?

Shall it all be left to chance that I,
A believer in these things who doth espy
The truth within the scope of mine sight?
Shall I leave others to their death? Their plight?
Did not some other man, or woman, or child,
Suffer from my killing him? This most wild
Fiend? This hound of hell's bells incarnate here?
Why should I from this life take evil's fear?
I've sinned, yes, it's true, and killed many  men...
Not one, not two, not thrice, but ten!
And many more besides these tolls...
As many as fishermen do catch from shoals
That go wandering into their nets from the sea...
I cannot count the number, no, not the tally...

Where shall my cause go? Undefended?
Have I in my rage, and passion, been overcome?
Is my life, that is now dust, ended,
Become blotted out? Like the son when done
Is time and the earth itself?
What shall become of my hidden wealth?
My store of courage, my passion for Love?
My desire for sage? Yet I did shun the above
By my act of anger, my wrath and my hate...
Or did I love him greater? Was it the weight
Of the deed done against me that set me free to strike?
To save some poor sod, some woman, child, from the pike?
Who judges all when this life is said and done?
Certainly not you, or me, nor some politician...
And seeing once more before my eyes as I rest,
My head upon the ground, this blessed earthen crest,
I see a boy, smiling back at me, his face aglow,
The love of God his eyes did show.
But looking down I saw that red did spread
From inside the maw did spread that dread
That strikes many a man down to the ground;
Yet his face was angelic, his brow a crown.

And I ask myself, could I have died like he?
A martyrdom? What is that? This fee
Seems madness, lunacy! Daft! Bonkers!
Dreams, sad quests! Empty of treasures!
Yet still, in my head, a song plays on...
Was it this song that led me to this promotion?
This death in the sand? This avenging of men?
This return to the ground in dignity, in peace?
For as I lie on the ground I feel a great peace...

But do I die? Ah! How strange...
For I wake up, where I was, on the range...
The eyes of woman in my sight again;
They fill me with warmth, inside, hidden
From the cold chill of the world I've come to know...
They give me what's real, for the world is but show
To the invisible reality, the justice inside our souls...
God, who trains each of us as young-ling foals.
Her eyes widen, her lips part wide...
A smile upon her! This I have eyed
Since I was a boy in the plain of this land...
But many a man, or boy, may yet understand
How woman's affection may heal rot, disease;
How a Mother, her son, by her sight may please.

Thought you that I spoke of the sex?
Perhaps, but no. And this doth perplex
You. For you do not know Love as it should
Be known, nor even as it is understood
By our souls, by our body, by our eyes,
Don't you see! Love is not in the words,
But in the way we act, our heart flies
At the sight of one truly beloved, and swords
Do part with their sheath to protect it from hoards
That would seek to part them from our sight...
Such was my anger direct, my plight.

Returning again to the dust where I lay,
I see the child searching my eyes,
I look again, and he's lying in hay...
And I can tell his face holds no ties;
Not for anger, not for love, but indifference...
That's worse than the rest, for it means once
He did love me greater than I loved him...
My love is reflected in him, my love, and my sin.

Cry I out to him, forgive me my Lord?
A boy...Ha! Simmer down say you,
For I have lost my wits to call a boy, gourd
Fat ling child in a pile of hay, as true
God and Man...
Ah! But I plan...
I plant to overcome your disbelief, your pride...
For I once held, as you, I did hold inside
All that doubt, confusion, anger and hate...
Now I beg forgiveness; freedom from the spate
That drove me into the wilderness of hell...
I long for the sound of an olden church bell...

Where is the rider that galloped apace?
Where are the guns? Heard as in a race?
Where are the sounds that do fast approach?
The sight of the child, smiling, a cross is made...
The sound of an oncoming frenzied coach
Is heard in the streets where my body is staid...

Darkness falls upon my eyes...and I weep.
For I feel deadened. What ties me here?
My indifference, my gluttonous fear.
For the hill I trod upon was too steep
For me alone to climb without God.
I ought to have praised, sung up a laud
In thanksgiving for having tracked down my man,
Rather than having given to pride; such a plan
Might have gone a long way in saving me from his knife...
I might have lived to tell the tale, avoided this strife...

Danos La Paz...I hear in my head...
Danos La Paz...I hear, to my dread...
Danos La Paz...I fear will not save...
Danos La paz...I fear the conclave...

Fast approaching, with limberness, and lithe
On the wind, they strike up; the sound of the Scythe,
I bow my head, not seeing a thing...
I know, to my dread, what my actions bring...

If I believe...does it do any good?
If I do not...does it mean that I should?
O God, do come, with your might rip free
From my wretched soul hell's grasping hand.
Let me not die in this dreary place, I plea;
So far away from home, this wretched land.

And suddenly I see again...
The face of my mother...
And it brings me much pain...
Tears in her eyes for my offense...
Words that speak of recompense...
Wordless, voiceless, merely her glance...
Her eyes a light, a living monstrance...
Then touching my wounds with her hands she sighs...
Sudden pain, and light in my eyes, the replies
Of voices, and sudden return to the earth...
Her face fades away as does the warmth from birth.

I lived to see another day...
Men came and took me away...
They healed my body of sore and pain...
But my soul is wretched, and the refrain
Danos La Paz...Is still in my head...
It fills me with tears, self pity, and dread...

The years go by, the war is over now.
The man has died, the ruinous sow
Has become a memory, nothing more than a dream...
Do not dreams come alive? And make you scream?
I hold my own on my ranch with my wife...
I try to hold back, stay out of the strife.
But the peace that once held, the battles once before,
Now threatens to turn, like the wind at the door.

I look in my heart and see her face, Mi Madre,
And through her, her son. What can I say?
I vow obedience to life for others now.
Though I don't know when, nor do I know how
Time should deliver me up to Her and the Son,
I know I shall bow then, and then I shall have won.

                        La Conquista de mi Corazon per Iesus, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

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