"How odd," he thought,
"How simple it would be
Were I to let her choose
All that comes next for me."
He held it loosely lying
On a shaking hand
With bones so crushed and broken
He could barely even stand.
Eyes so filled with dust and smoke
They watered, blinking tears,
He held it loosely lying,
His thoughts on coming years.
So, the law was back in town,
But...was that in his plan?
Was that what...he...wanted?
Was he that sort of man?
Very like the town itself,
His life lay blown apart.
Was...this...his new beginning?
Was this where he should start?
She'd tossed it, oh, so surely
As if she'd known his way,
Had known his heart so truly,
Had made his choice this day.
But choice was a precious thing,
Ripped from his life by force,
And so he held it very loosely,
There was no sure "of course."
Admid the town's bright burning
Lay the scent of mission flame,
Lay the sharp-stabbed mem'ry
Of the choiceless way he came
Dragged here, bound and weary,
Tossed hard across the floor,
With choice locked so securely
Behind some bolted door.
She did not understand him
Nor the deal he had made,
Nor all the given hours
That his debt might be repaid:
Since he had taken from Him
One of God's best men,
And made himself an offering
On the altar of his sin.
She thought it, oh, so easy
For him to let it go,
That she could pick it for him,
That she could really know
What his heart required,
What it was that he should do
Just stay right here and hold it...
But she didn't have a clue.
And, so, he held it loosely
Upon his broken palm
While soft into his tired brain
Sifted words from oft-said psalm:
"Though I walk, alone, afraid,
Through valleys filled with death..."
He spoke the words just barely,
Slipped out with quiet breath.
Eyes taking in destruction,
He continued with small smile,
"Yea, I walk beside you,
With you ...every mile."
So...he mounted Herod's horse,
And headed toward the west,
Still holding it so loosely...
She'd not known what was the best.
The strength of resolution
In a choice he had made,
Though flamed in smoke and fire,
The choice did not fade.
Stopping by the graveyard,
Where'd been the marshal's stone,
He lay the badge upon the ground,
And left it lying there...alone.
Jo Anzalone