<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="yes"?><oembed><version><![CDATA[1.0]]></version><provider_name><![CDATA[Irresistibly Fish]]></provider_name><provider_url><![CDATA[https://brettfish.wordpress.com]]></provider_url><author_name><![CDATA[brettfish]]></author_name><author_url><![CDATA[https://brettfish.wordpress.com/author/brettfish/]]></author_url><title><![CDATA[poem: twice prodigal]]></title><type><![CDATA[link]]></type><html><![CDATA[<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="text-decoration:underline;"><strong>Twice Prodigal</strong></span></p>
<p><strong>Have I walked this path?</strong></p>
<p><strong>I can not remember having come this way before;</strong></p>
<p><strong>Yet&#8230; strange feeling of familiarity haunts me</strong></p>
<p><strong>As each step I take brings me closer to home&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>I still taste the pods I fed those wretched swine </strong></p>
<p><strong>A plague reminder of my sin and shame upon my tongue</strong></p>
<p><strong>Hazy images of the land I&#8217;m walking:</strong></p>
<p><strong>Imagination..</strong></p>
<p><strong>&#8230;or memory?</strong></p>
<p><strong>Something is not quite right</strong></p>
<p><strong>Can&#8217;t put my finger on it</strong></p>
<p><strong>Inheritance grasped&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>Relationship squandered.</strong></p>
<p><strong>&#8230;and now returning to beg mercy and forgiveness</strong></p>
<p><strong>A Father&#8217;s compassion&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>A butchered calf celebrating a life once lost</strong></p>
<p><strong>Now returned from the grave</strong></p>
<p><strong>&#8230;could it be?</strong></p>
<p><strong>Is it even possible?</strong></p>
<p><strong>NO!</strong></p>
<p><strong>That could never happen!</strong></p>
<p><strong>It wouldn&#8217;t!</strong></p>
<p><strong>It mustn&#8217;t&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>Must&#8230;not&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>But yet&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>I find myself walking a path somewhat recognisable to me</strong></p>
<p><strong>A robe hangs across my shoulders &#8211; faded, torn.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Ring on my finger with shiny glint, long lost&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>Forgotten?</strong></p>
<p><strong>Dirt-stained sandals worn beneath my tired feet&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>Surely this is my first journey home&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>Yes! &#8211; my mind is just playing tricks</strong></p>
<p><strong>That&#8217;s it&#8230; no one would return home to such love and acceptance</strong></p>
<p><strong>Only to turn his back and set out once more?</strong></p>
<p><strong>Nobody cured of blindness deliberately erases their sight </strong></p>
<p><strong>Pushes away the embrace of unconditional forgiveness</strong></p>
<p><strong>Heads back towards the shadowy abyss&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>NO!</strong></p>
<p><strong>This is it.</strong></p>
<p><strong>It is me&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>And I am walking home</strong></p>
<p><strong>Back to a place I knew</strong></p>
<p><strong>To a father who hasn&#8217;t stopped loving </strong></p>
<p><strong>Looking out&#8230;</strong></p>
<p><strong>Awaiting my return.</strong></p>
]]></html></oembed>