Gas Station Prophet

A Missourian Sestina

 

Stopped for a fill-up, eh? No shortage a those on the road. 

 You know Paul stopped for a Phillip as well, 

 In Caesarea, as he was a prophesizin’.   

 Sharin’ the good word ‘bout Jesus. 

 Lots a beliefs the world over. People just tryin’ to understand 

What it means to be human. 
 

Now it weren’t long ago I was a ponderin’ bout the human  

Experience. I was out looking for a ten point buck, mind, so I took a four wheeler and rode 

To this spot I knew, outta town. And I saw one.  Looked right at me, like he could understand 

What I was a doing there. He weren’t ‘fraid or nothin’, not a me or my rifle. And I felt it well 

Up in me, a knowing that God made me and that buck, made that spot outta town, like Jesus 

Was in that buck, was the buck, his crown of antlers a crown of thorns, filled with prophesizin’. 
 

Met a angel haired girl at this stop, and she said Jesus and Buddha were friends, prophesizin’ 

The same message a love and transcendence. I bet that’s true, only we get some it wrong, human 

Beings being what they are, what with their memories being like they are. Lotta people get Jesus 

Wrong. He ain’t no ‘Merican. Weren’t white. And he taught erbody, out by the roads 

And highways, preachin’ love, even turnin’ over tables a money men, showing us the well 

And good way to be, not loving money more’n people. Wish I knew more a Buddha, understood 
 

His message. But there ain’t much a that round here. But I can feel it round here, under stands  

 Of pines and oak. I read once bout this Japanese religion, one less about prophesizin’ 

 Than it were bout the divine. How it’s in all sorts a things. When I see’s a big tree I think, well, 

There’s a bit a divinity in that, I reckon. And I watch the leaves’n lights and see the hue, man,   

 Then I know there’s a little bit of God in all of us critters. All on the long road 

Back to Jesus 
 

 Or Buddha or the Divine, whatever you wanna call it. Jeez, us 

Humans and our ideas. I bet some could call it science. Those folks who understand 

 Math and physics and all that sure do talk about it like its divine. Erodes 

 My nerves an gimme a headache, but I can see what they mean. All those equations prophesizin’ 

 How gravity works, them things in space movin’ like God’s clock. Humans 

Can call it science, but I see God’s hands in it, a tool box with his greased fingers fiddlin’ well  
 

 Enough on this rusty ol’ universe to keep it goin’ another day. Bet he lives like us, drinkin’ well 

 Water on his porch, his wife smilin’ at him from the garden, with his boy Jesus 

 Playin’ with Buddha, and Krishna wavin’ from the pond sayin’, “come swim!” So human 

 That we’d never know they weren’t. Cause maybe we’re more like them than we understand. 

So let me do some prophesizin’  

‘fore you go: you’re gonna find him on this here road. 
 

 I ain’t prophesizin’ silly, now. He may not be Jesus, or even human, 

 But when you see him, well, you’ll understand, 

That he is always on the road, looking for us, calling us home. 

Published by AC Moore

My goal is to one day change the world in the same way Shakespeare did: by infusing the thoughts of the human race with such language and turn-of-phrase that they say them daily, and never even know it was I who wrote it.

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