The Barefoot Prophet on the Beach

As the first ray of light
seeps through the sleepy sky
in the horizon, a lone sight
trudging the yellow sandy shore.

A flowing red robe adorns
a tall wavering specter
with long stalks of black hair
rustling down a gaunt veneer.

His beating bell stirs
the staid salty air.
"Repent of your ways;
for Him, prepare the way!"

Like the waves, he wails
rousing sleepy souls from
islands far away
trampling on the tranquil day.

The sinners sneer at the seer
whose message to dispose
tramps on their repose.
But he rests not in his desire

and tomorrow will find him again
trudging the sandy shore
his feet bare, his mission clear
from hell, more souls to steer.

                                                 Birgitta Abimbola Heikka