Theodicy

Which son does the father's will?

The tax collecters and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of heaven,
And I fear, as before, the shedding of flesh, the moment of death
When I learn how little the living really see.

I walk in daylight half-convinced, as one who sleeps among the stars
A paradox pair of half-singed legs ,
An uncommon fondness toward fire.

What joy in heaven at the turning,
Joy in heaven at the sidelong step.

But I wake half-convinced of faer-folk,
Eyes half-shadowed, fearing sight of
What I know exists.

She said softly I would have a vision
"Just you wait, and you will see the sights"
But I am blind, fair teacher, I am blind

I see not nor justice as I ought
Is it not us who are unjust?
It is not God who makes us suffer thus.

"This parable," he says, collared high in white,
wrapped long in green and gold,
"This parable is about us."