Friday Poem
© 6 Dec 2012 Luther Tychonievich
Licensed under Creative Commons: CC BY-NC-ND 3.0
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Friday Poem

A bizarre hypothetical involving a vision, a sage, and clothing.


Untitled Poem

Suppose, for a moment, you just had a vision supernal;
  You’d prayed and an angel had visited you by your bed.
Suppose too some person suggested it was more infernal
  And that the whole “‍glory‍” was foolishness made in your head.
Suppose then you went to a sage on the top of a mountain
  To ask if your vision could possibly be what you thought
And that the old sage said “‍Your answer is much like a fountain
  That bubbles forever in lands that are barren and hot;
To find it I think you should dress like an Arab explorer
  And not like the prophet you think that you might be today.‍”
Suppose, though, the thought of the wearing of robes was a horror
  And so you ignored what the sage did insistently say
Which cause the old sage to descend that he might give assistance
  And follow you everywhere, trying to get you to change.
Supposing this, would you give in to his wardrobe insistence
  Or would you ignore him because his whole method was strange?

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