In His Grip #3, Left-handed..*

five smooth stones came out of the creek
they all drank together there so to speak
one by one they are lifted and dropped
in a lamb skin pouch where they gently plop

hard as rock is ever slung they speed
they travel alone neither crack nor bleed
in a moment or two 'bout a blink they've sped
in flight they draw what they drew out dead

one looks up from the leathery pit
at the shepherd boy taking a hold of it
remain in dark four awaiting their turns
but only one rock the shepherd boy burns

only one rock the work requires
one rock kills an army of liars
one rock bullet a dead snake makes
one rock of faith all it ever takes

hammered bolts cross the dark bone yard
lightening swift strikes the big lie hard
the big lies down, the little lies run
the truth hits high, the world lies stunned

the little round rock is circumspect
the outstretched stretches out his own stiff neck
we take to heart his head on a post
let lightening flash the holy ghost

the big lie carried a ten foot spear
the big lie wielded the sword of fear
the big lie stood about nine feet six
the shepherd boy grips an old crucifix
©2009-12 Gary Ottoson  |  * Not Right-handed