30 January 2013
A naked man bows his head, and Walks on into driving rain, teeth
Together, arms hugging chest, Resolute against the pain
Upon his back their lies a cross, 8ft high and 5ft across, bound
With rope tied in double knots, Noosed around his neck, his
Shoulders, his back bearing the Tremendous weight, his mind lost
In this quest that Fate decreed he Must achieve, or die in the process
For 100 days he has suffered Man's torment; curses and scorn,
Anger, revulsion, and more; stones Thrown in teenage fun, hit with
Sticks of wood and iron, told to Hide his nakedness, demands
To end this foolishness, this madness 'Who do you think you are?!'
'Jesus?' With his long hair, and His crown of thorns he made from
Pyracantha. No, just a man on Pilgrimage from one land to
Another, carrying the weight of his Sins, on his back and his shoulder
Seeking what? In tears, the man Slows, comes to rest at a shop,
In Birmingham, selling vegetables, And fruit, and everything he has
Not eaten for 2 days, and so Craves, but he hasn't coins or
Cash or anything to barter, and So he makes to walk off again,
Forsakes food, aware of the burning Stigmata he has delivered to this
City; dark brown eyes watching him, Dangerously, from the central
Mosque in Belgrave, Middleway, A naked man bows his head, prays
And suddenly, out rushes a woman In hijaab, covered from head to toe
In black, just merciful eyes visible Behind her delicate veil, holding
A basket of fruit and vegetable, As an offering, a gift to a
Naked man, a cross on his back And tears streaming down his
Face. I thank her silently, weeping, Privately, so believing in Man, and
Man's kindness and generosity. Muslim worshippers begin to applaud,
As the woman disappears back into Her shop, and I take the time to kneel
And give thanks, my prayers simply Prayers of a naked man, cross on back, head bowed.
A Naked Man, Head Bowed • Opuss № I