granddad

This is the story of a boy named Joe.

He had a sister who loved him

So they wanted to get married.

Joe tarried, not knowing what to do.

This new life, Christianity,

Wasn’t something someone who

Had grown up to be Muslim

Was want to do.

But he loved his new sister

Who gave him life anew.

 

The Muslim life had come to be

One Joe knew he

Would live all his life, free

From the infidels like, to him,

This new sister had been.

 

Joe grew up in Allah who

Joe believed would reward someone who

Knew and lived the life Joe grew

Up living.

 

No Jew, no infidel would he

Allow to invade his inner peace

He felt when at the proper times he

Every day knelt on his knees.

 

Joe believed.

 

Something came in between him one day

And the faith of his beginnings,

The way

He learned to pray

As a lad of his father’s faith.

No way the death of betrayal

Would invade

The house of the father of Joe.

No way.

 

Love came to Joe one day.

He saw, was sickened, in the name of faith,

How killing was done, the Jewish state,

People who claimed his faith,

Murdering innocent, and in his virgin state

Joe began to question everything.

 

As questions arose, and Joe began to seek,

His eyes to the skies, Joe did speak

And utter what since a boy

He’d dare not think.

“Show me. Show yourself to me.”

And never did he think

A miracle in his home could be,

but there it was, in plain sight,

Hidden beneath,

In the room in the back,

Where the grandfather of Joe did sleep,

A book, three pages really, it said,

“Ephesians.”

 Joe for weeks did read and read.

Things came back.

His family said, “Please,

Joe, be a good boy.

Do as we—

Joe, little Joe,

We need you to go

With you aunt

To a cottage. It won’t

Be long.”

 

Joe went. He stayed. Came back.

His grandfather was gone.

 

Joe read on.

Philippians, Hebrews, Joe snuck in.

Under the fear of what this meant.

Had his life been spent,

Had everything told him

Been a lie?

 

Then she came in.

A Christian Jew,

Anathema to him,

Her very existence

An unholy thing,

A disease, an odor

In the oxygen

His people took in.

 

She taught him,

Though they could not be seen together.

She prayed, his head bent,

She asked whether

He knew what he was doing.

Did she?

The words they said,

They shared meaning,

Devoting themselves,

In Christ

Being

United, equal, each needing

To give way

To what day by day

Had been birthed,

Spiritually forming,

Within the purity

Of their belief.

 

John I and II they memorized.

Their life even if

They died,

To one faith,

One life,

Through time,

John’s voice invited

The siblings in Christ

To stop lying

And be

Together in the freedom

Joe’s grandfather achieved.