Much time, I’ve lived along a riverside,
My friend Joshua, has lived here with me,
He’s stronger than I and quicker in stride,
And that my soul can hardly bear to see.
We’d go to the river to bring back drink,
I’d carry two buckets, he’d carry six,
I turned to ask one day, “Why do you think...”
His compassionate stare hit me like bricks.
At noon we’d go chop wood in the forest,
I’d split a pile and he’d split double,
What did I bring home? I was the poorest,
He had no hardships, he had no trouble.
I resented that he provided more,
Both of us lived there, why should I give less?
The worst of it came when my chest grew sore,
That sharp, cutting pain I tried to suppress.
He saw through me though, I knew that he would.
“Go rest in bed, I’ll call a physician.”
I started to get angry, I just stood.
“Please, my friend, don’t deny your condition.”
“I’ll do the work, I’ll get water and wood,”
“Don’t worry,” he said as he took my hand,
“I’ll bring you your food, I’m here for your good.”
The pain in my chest forbade me to stand.
I slumped into bed and gnashed hard my teeth,
My eyes welled swollen with boiling tears,
“I’ll be up tomorrow, back on my feet.”
I’d hold tight my lie and stiffarm my fears.
The night passed slowly in dreams black and red,
The sun rose. Joshua came from outside,
“Here, eat,” he said and handed me warm bread,
I ate it, and coughed. I choked on my pride.
As the days rolled by my heart grew inflamed,
Mingling anger with fear and despair,
I snapped, “Don’t bring me food, I’m so ashamed.”
“But you’re sick,” eyes of love anwered my glare.
Knock. The floor creeked as he walked to the door,
“Who would come?” I thought, and turned out of sight,
“I’m the physician, I’ve come to restore.”
Fear stole my breath, my eyes fixed on the floor,
I’d still cluth my lie, til’ the end, I swore.
“I’ll improve,” I cried. The physician sat.
He took out his bag, “Just be still,” he said.
I dropped my arms, far too weak for combat.
He checked my heart, a soft hand on my head.
I tried to read his gaze as he tested,
a tired brow and heavey eyes told all,
“Well son, your friend tells me you’re well rested,”
I listened, I saw his counteance fall.
“I’m sorry,” he shut his eyes, bit his lip,
“I’ll improve!” “I really wish you were right.”
“Do you mean?...” my lie now in no firm grip,
“Your heart won’t make it through the dark of night.”
I roared in my soul and out came a wheeze,
I pierced them both with a fragile frown,
Joshua’s tears flowed like the purest seas,
From the gentlest eyes, so big and brown.
I buried my face in the bed. They left.
I heard much talk as I mourned my last hours.
The candle grew dim and my soul bereft,
I would see no more light, grass, or flowers.
No more lies, my body shook cold with fear,
My mind started to lose concentration,
That was it, I dozed off, and death was near,
For it was all to end in frustration.
......
I open my eyelids, windows shed light,
I squint, and scan the room, “Why it’s the same!”
My old shirt has been changed. I’m wrapped in white.
“And the pain, it’s gone, no pain!” I exclaim.
I rise slowly, set my feet on the ground,
“I can sit!” I cry, and attempt to rise.
“I can stand!” I shout, and look all around.
“Must show the physician, he’s not so wise.”
The door slowly swings and he’s standing there,
No awe in his gaze, no shock in his glance,
“Look, I’m alive! I’m alive! Don’t you care?”
A solemn joy smile, but holds his stance.
“Look son, there’s something that you need to know,”
“Well speak! Here I am, please do not refrain!”
He looks, says, “you should be down below.”
“But look at me now, my life does not wane!”
He ignores my plea and takes up his bag,
Clasps my hand, places a note on my palm,
“What’s this?” I grab, my hand sets to tremble.
“Just read it, dear son, and try to stay calm.”
Dear friend, if you’re reading this now you’re alive,
you may ask why? as you were sure to die.
I asked the physician, “can you revive?”
We talked for a good long time, him and I.
“He whom you love is quite ill,” he explained.
“I’ve considered all possibilities,
His heart, you see, of its life-blood is drained,
too far beyond my capabilities.”
In the end he told me, “There’s but one way.”
—you know I love you, friend—I questioned more.
“His heart is no good, it can’t give him life.
It’s a new one he needs, to end this war.”
Though you’ve spurned my love, it could never cease.
It’s not that you loved me, rather I you,
I give not as the world, I leave you peace,
Let not your heart be troubled, it is new.
For you see there was one way for your life,
So mine I laid down of my own accord,
feel on your chest the ripe scar of a knife,
your heart is from me, my own life outpoured.
I gave it for you. Your joy, my reward.
I read and my tears flow like a torrent,
My knees plunge a dent in the wooden floor,
“No thing I’ve done, none at all could warrant,
this love of my friend whom now I adore!
For in this is love, which I never knew,
not that I’ve loved him, twas his suffring’s cup,
But Joshua my friend, faithful and true,
loved me, and for my life gave himself up.
And the physician, upon hearing the note read aloud said, “See how he loved him!”
“In this is love, not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." (-1 John 4:10)
May all glory be to Christ, supreme over all creation, the ultimate treasure, in whose presence is fullness of joy.
My friend Joshua, has lived here with me,
He’s stronger than I and quicker in stride,
And that my soul can hardly bear to see.
We’d go to the river to bring back drink,
I’d carry two buckets, he’d carry six,
I turned to ask one day, “Why do you think...”
His compassionate stare hit me like bricks.
At noon we’d go chop wood in the forest,
I’d split a pile and he’d split double,
What did I bring home? I was the poorest,
He had no hardships, he had no trouble.
I resented that he provided more,
Both of us lived there, why should I give less?
The worst of it came when my chest grew sore,
That sharp, cutting pain I tried to suppress.
He saw through me though, I knew that he would.
“Go rest in bed, I’ll call a physician.”
I started to get angry, I just stood.
“Please, my friend, don’t deny your condition.”
“I’ll do the work, I’ll get water and wood,”
“Don’t worry,” he said as he took my hand,
“I’ll bring you your food, I’m here for your good.”
The pain in my chest forbade me to stand.
I slumped into bed and gnashed hard my teeth,
My eyes welled swollen with boiling tears,
“I’ll be up tomorrow, back on my feet.”
I’d hold tight my lie and stiffarm my fears.
The night passed slowly in dreams black and red,
The sun rose. Joshua came from outside,
“Here, eat,” he said and handed me warm bread,
I ate it, and coughed. I choked on my pride.
As the days rolled by my heart grew inflamed,
Mingling anger with fear and despair,
I snapped, “Don’t bring me food, I’m so ashamed.”
“But you’re sick,” eyes of love anwered my glare.
Knock. The floor creeked as he walked to the door,
“Who would come?” I thought, and turned out of sight,
“I’m the physician, I’ve come to restore.”
Fear stole my breath, my eyes fixed on the floor,
I’d still cluth my lie, til’ the end, I swore.
“I’ll improve,” I cried. The physician sat.
He took out his bag, “Just be still,” he said.
I dropped my arms, far too weak for combat.
He checked my heart, a soft hand on my head.
I tried to read his gaze as he tested,
a tired brow and heavey eyes told all,
“Well son, your friend tells me you’re well rested,”
I listened, I saw his counteance fall.
“I’m sorry,” he shut his eyes, bit his lip,
“I’ll improve!” “I really wish you were right.”
“Do you mean?...” my lie now in no firm grip,
“Your heart won’t make it through the dark of night.”
I roared in my soul and out came a wheeze,
I pierced them both with a fragile frown,
Joshua’s tears flowed like the purest seas,
From the gentlest eyes, so big and brown.
I buried my face in the bed. They left.
I heard much talk as I mourned my last hours.
The candle grew dim and my soul bereft,
I would see no more light, grass, or flowers.
No more lies, my body shook cold with fear,
My mind started to lose concentration,
That was it, I dozed off, and death was near,
For it was all to end in frustration.
......
I open my eyelids, windows shed light,
I squint, and scan the room, “Why it’s the same!”
My old shirt has been changed. I’m wrapped in white.
“And the pain, it’s gone, no pain!” I exclaim.
I rise slowly, set my feet on the ground,
“I can sit!” I cry, and attempt to rise.
“I can stand!” I shout, and look all around.
“Must show the physician, he’s not so wise.”
The door slowly swings and he’s standing there,
No awe in his gaze, no shock in his glance,
“Look, I’m alive! I’m alive! Don’t you care?”
A solemn joy smile, but holds his stance.
“Look son, there’s something that you need to know,”
“Well speak! Here I am, please do not refrain!”
He looks, says, “you should be down below.”
“But look at me now, my life does not wane!”
He ignores my plea and takes up his bag,
Clasps my hand, places a note on my palm,
“What’s this?” I grab, my hand sets to tremble.
“Just read it, dear son, and try to stay calm.”
Dear friend, if you’re reading this now you’re alive,
you may ask why? as you were sure to die.
I asked the physician, “can you revive?”
We talked for a good long time, him and I.
“He whom you love is quite ill,” he explained.
“I’ve considered all possibilities,
His heart, you see, of its life-blood is drained,
too far beyond my capabilities.”
In the end he told me, “There’s but one way.”
—you know I love you, friend—I questioned more.
“His heart is no good, it can’t give him life.
It’s a new one he needs, to end this war.”
Though you’ve spurned my love, it could never cease.
It’s not that you loved me, rather I you,
I give not as the world, I leave you peace,
Let not your heart be troubled, it is new.
For you see there was one way for your life,
So mine I laid down of my own accord,
feel on your chest the ripe scar of a knife,
your heart is from me, my own life outpoured.
I gave it for you. Your joy, my reward.
I read and my tears flow like a torrent,
My knees plunge a dent in the wooden floor,
“No thing I’ve done, none at all could warrant,
this love of my friend whom now I adore!
For in this is love, which I never knew,
not that I’ve loved him, twas his suffring’s cup,
But Joshua my friend, faithful and true,
loved me, and for my life gave himself up.
And the physician, upon hearing the note read aloud said, “See how he loved him!”
“In this is love, not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." (-1 John 4:10)
May all glory be to Christ, supreme over all creation, the ultimate treasure, in whose presence is fullness of joy.
