The Three Roads of Jonathan Marcus
Blistering, scorching rays of the sun were merciless indeed,
Down the dusty road he trod, the waves of anger, freed.
Marcus, seething in his rage, the malice was destroying him,
His anger was directed toward his fellow Kingdom countrymen…
The enemy let Marcus live to walk among the ones betrayed,
Thoughts of death were fleeting but eventually the mantra stayed.
He wore the dreaded label of a traitor to the Kingdom throne.
And bore the pain and anguish of the Kingdom people, and his own.
For deeds that he could not atone, the deeds that left him all alone.
Frantic, secret searching for a way to spend the waking day,
Longing for a single face that didn’t turn his face away,
Time is now extended, as anxiety persists,
And “You will never rise again”, the Enemy insists.
Pervasive is the evil hiss which Marc considers consequence…
But there’s a Companion along on this journey,
Who tasted rejection, abandoned and scorned,
Redeemer of Marcus, He follows in silence,
His simple attire is plain, unadorned,
The Covenant Prince! How common His entrance,
No fanfare, no army, no choir would sing.
The Prince came alone, as a ransom for Marcus,
Sent on behalf of the Covenant King…
Roads are options, paths present. Where they lead is evident.
The force of the sun in the sky overhead, burning his arms and his face,
Marcus continued to push down the road to the cadence, “Get out of this place!”
Although he had never run from a fight, it was strange to be leaving one now,
At this stage, at this age, was his greatest defeat:
he should stand, but he didn’t know how.
Thirst. It began as a gnawing at first, the air and his bones and his mouth were so dry,
The eyes of the people he passed on the road,
he perceived, looked away as he drug himself by.
“Continue to walk,” came the cadence. But the Prince echoed back, “Let’s sit down.
Up ahead, take your ease by the shade tree.
A fountain awaits in the spring of the ground.”
He reasoned, “A spring couldn’t quench me, however sufficient it be.”
Thus Marcus continued his walking and passed by the spring and the tree.
Thirst has a way of demanding
And forcing its way on the will
Marcus believed that his thirst could be quenched,
If he just made it over the hill.
“Imagine, just over the hillside…
It possesses the thing that I lack.”
Marcus continued to push up the road, topped the hill,
And he never looked back…
He returned to the Heap where he lived several years,
When death came for Marc there was reason for tears.
Roads are options, paths present; where they lead is evident.
Avoid an empty, heedless end. Accept the guidance from your Friend.
The storm could be seen in the distance,
The strength of its fury, alighting the sky,
Marcus, unfazed by the darkening path,
He scorned the dirt road that was dusty and dry.
“Rain, let it come. It will soothe me.
It mirrors the rage in my heart.”
The lightening approached with a current of force,
From heaven to earth, causing Marcus to start.
Raindrops soon pelted the wounds on his back,
His face and his fingers, soon dripping with blood,
The Prince, the Companion, so faithful and true,
Was concerned by the thunder and deepening mud.
“Marcus, seek shelter. I warn you!
There’s danger in storms such as this”,
The Prince moved in closer to Marcus,
Over the thunder, the sound of the hiss.
They appeared through the blanket of water,
And they stood in the shadowy street,
Three men, in an ocean of blackness,
Their boldness was dripping with open conceit.
They were obviously coming for Marcus,
Their smiles a deception, by all evidence,
“Reject their proposal, whatever it is…”
Came urgently now from the lips of the Prince.
But the hiss was compelling, “Sir Marcus…”
The sound hanging on in the breath of the wind,
“The tales of your prowess preceded our fight,
You’re known for your courage. We call you our friend.”
Their faces were lit by the lightening.
Their smiles were revealed by the skies.
“Join us! Be one of our number.
The King has deceived you. His promises, lies.”
“Join us! Be ever the victor!
Join us! The tribe of the strong…”
But the Prince put a hand upon Marcus’s wrist,
Clear, forceful language, “Marcus, they’re wrong!”
The storm, a crescendo in climax,
The conflict continued to grow,
Seeking his own restoration, Marcus turned to the Prince
And he said, “Let me go!”
The thunder and lightning, a chorus of sound,
The darkness of night and the sting of the rain,
The spiraling fear and the stab of the heart,
The Prince, falling fast in an abyss of pain.
“Remember the King and your promise…
Remember the day of your vow…”
But Marcus was calm in his quiet response,
“I belonged with Him then…
…I belong with them now.”
“Remember…”-the Prince, in His anguish,
“Join us!” the enemy cried.
With a look of resolve, he walked into the dark,
…And Jonathan Marcus died.
Oh, no! Oh, no! This isn’t the way that we want it to go.
Jon Marcus didn’t die that day. He walked his options to their end,
A last heroic surge of hope, he prayed unto his Peaceful Friend,
His last request was that He “come”…and then he drifted off to sleep,
As in a dream was carried to a wagon from the dying Heap.
Squeak! Rumble…Squeak! Rumble… He woke to the sound,
The view from the wagon bed spinning around.
As if in a dream…I remember the woman,
the way she approached me, my foolish allure.
Treachery, trickery, I was a target; my weaknesses served them, of this we are sure.
As if in a dream, I’m approaching the outpost,
The froth on my horse as he dashed through the mud…
The chill up my spine as I witnessed the fallen,
my friends on their faces, all covered with blood.
Lurching, the wagon is jostling my form. The straw in the wagon is prickly and warm.
In front are two donkeys that pull as a team.
The wagon moved forward, as if in a dream.
The nightmare… the horror, they taunt me, surround me,
Before the fight started, they’d already won,
Fear so consuming, that I, the great Marcus,
Had turned on his heels….and then started to run!
The nightmare resumes….I am running. They hunt me,
Pursued by the Strangers with thunderous drums,
Finding their number among us, I’m saddened,
Yet this is the way that the enemy comes.
...from deep in the darkness, the talons
are piercing my back as I dash through the night,
Ahead I can see it, the wall of the fortress,
On top is a lady. She’s holding a light.
Oh, to my horror, I’m thrown from the saddle,
My heart and my mind on a singular thing:
Oh, that I had the whole thing to do over,
I’d die by the side of the Covenant King…
Where is he taking me? It doesn’t matter…
the wagon is rumbling, I’m shaken to sleep…
And wonder how…wonder how…How was I spared?
From the eternal death I deserved in the heap.
As if in a daze, I can see Him, the driver.
His blue silhouette sitting tall on the bench,
This bumpy old road is no longer familiar,
My wounds have been bound; I am washed of the stench.
Who is He? I utter, as if I don’t know…
Who lifted my body and cared for me since?
Who brazenly entered the camp of the wicked?
A ransom required. Who paid it? The Prince.
Who dares befriend Him, the merciful Prince?
And bending his knee, declares, “He is the ONE.”
No longer concerned with the issues of life,
But in seeking the King, and in loving His Son.
Who can imagine no other endeavor,
Pursuing the ONE who perfected the end,
To stand near the Prince, at the end of the journey,
And hear His profession, “This man is My friend!”
As if in a daze…I return from my musings. I notice a wide open field up ahead...
The wagon is slowing, the Prince bounces down. The donkeys are grazing,
I’m still in the bed.
The field is alive…it is teeming with insects…peacefully, quietly brimming with breath,
I’m no longer dreaming, or dazing or sleeping. I’m fully awake.
I’ve awakened from death.
I find myself rising and standing, then glancing.
I’m facing the meadow, the Prince, very near.
Breaking the tree line, I see someone coming…
He’s running toward me, He’s practically here!
Something is vaguely familiar; I study,
The bright summer sun is outlining a form,
Dawning awareness, in slow recognition…
I’m anxious at once, so I flush and grow warm.
Someone is running with single intention…
A sight that I find to be bewildering…
There are no words to describe how it feels…
…to be held in the arms of the Covenant King!