Rod and Staff

Who shepherds the Lord when he runs astray,

Loses his shit in waters turbulent?

Rules pertaining to mortals don’t apply:

The Rod and Staff of watching crowds

Must hold Him to account.

What Rod and Staff can hold such Majesty?

A Tesla coil beyond the Sun,

To tether the Soul’s architect nearby.

Hereby all the days of my life

To restoreth my soul.

And, as North and South divide and join us,

We resist the most when we least are sure.

To know ourselves is to read between us

A palimpsested 3-D sketch

Of terror masked by ritual.

Ah ritual, that lost art of balance.

Shew me the light, O Enoch: Chief of Archangels;

Voiced by James Earl Jones.

Ordinance Survey of Righteousness,

Map my route in ten foot scale.

In this Industrial mode of Biblical evolution,

Have we lost the theme of ‘Shepherd’,

Lost ideas of pastoral care?

Shattering, copper-lit, boom of the power hammer

Shelters the all-powerful Wizard from view.

You offer me a ride after work,

On a bicycle made for a shepherdess.

No Rod, no Staff, just your Trachinian smile,

That guides me in from the cold

And makes our house a home to dwell in for good.