Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

I heard of Jonah and his dealings with whale

I thought to myself “well now there’s a tale”

And I read it once long and I read it once hard

And I wrote down the meaning on the back of a card.

 

So I began to walk through scenery pleasant

Enjoying life no more than I could have at present

And I thought again on the parable Biblical

Whilst the day rolled on forever cyclical.

 

I thought of Jonah and his swallowed by whale

As I walked along this long forgotten trail

And a thought occurred as I reached a town

And it came over strong so I sat myself down.

 

I saw a leaf chasing the shadow of bee

And a teacher to child discussing imagery

I saw heaven as a brightened star

And a brothel door slightly ajar.

 

As I pondered on these things I’d seen

I felt a raindrop cleansing, clean

And I thought of Jonah entombed by whale

And was hurt by notions of if I should fail.

 

I journeyed far to avoid such claim

I journeyed here to save my name

I spoke of parables old and new

I spoke of things concerning few.

 

I lost my way just before the last tree

Turned right not left, so foolish of me

And whatever occurred led me to this path

I thought of Jonah and I heard him laugh.

 

Walking onwards in rain of clouds bringing

Deaf to all noise but that of my singing

I thought of Jonah spat out by whale

I wished Jonah lay dead on the shale.

 

I threw the good book in fury unleashed

Looked on in awe at where my throw reached

And I walked on to follow this new path I made

I walked on under trees and their shade.

 

Found I a beach and upon a beached whale

This Jonah metaphor was not yet so stale

In front of beast lay a man arms out spread

One look was to see that this man lay dead.

 

I had wished for this and with all the luck

It was poor Jonah whom I had forsook

And no guilt felt I nor no mourning I did

In his hand placed the book and farewell I bid.

 

With a walk far to home I thought upon

Jonah’s demise and the whale paragon

Yet I did my part for book in his hand

Shall remain until he’s coated by sand.

 

Erstwhile am I consumed by this fear

That’s worth no more than just one tear?

So I looked above and prayed to the skies

And asked for God to desist with his lies.

 

I felt no better and I felt no worse

My pain instead was wrapped by verse

My voice grew quiet, my voice grew hoarse

My hands grew tough, my hands grew coarse.

 

The ground was scratching and killing me

This had to be God and his damned fury

I thought of my trip and how I came to fail

And all thoughts led back to Jonah in whale.

 

© Kris Blackburn 04/03/13

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