He took all that was legally his to inherit
And never to lay claim on any deed again.
Yet, having spent all, now in lack and want,
Living in abject penury, he returned home;
He returned not as a son any more but.....
Positioning himself as a servant legally
speaking.
But grace located him and restored him;
Instead of shame and reproach he found;
Grace and the father's embrace saying..
Welcome home, this is your home both
now and forever.
(Written 6th December, 2015.)
Part of my inheritance I did receive,
Though unworthy was I that gift to conceive;
Younger in mind, and wilful in thought,
I went to a distant land and squandered what I brought.
I wasted my Father’s gift in a wanton way;
From Grace I departed, and fell far astray.
Then, passing into spiritual insensibility,
The husks of the swine I desired to share,
Whose keeper I was—yet none would spare;
I longed to eat what they were given,
Yet no man gave me aught, though I was driven.
Thus was my soul perishing, bereft of all answer,
Having lost the dignity of sonship I bore;
Not merely as a hireling, for some wage,
But even as an unworthy slave.
How shall I return, when I have no boldness to plead?
I see how my brethren thy commandments heed;
Their obedience they keep, without blame,
While I have cast away my sonship and name.
O Father, I have sinned; I have gone astray—
Yet behold my repentance, and look on me, I pray.
We are all prodigal children of God
No matter what color skin we wear
He sent His only begotten Son
To save us from ourselves
And bring all of us Home
Are we not like little gods in the making?
Earth life, our schooling
Do not fear death but rather fear
Him whom could obliterate us into nothingness
So, people please, turn away from sin
And come back to Him
See you
In Heaven
In two rooms
at opposite ends
of today
the devil pays my rent
Forcing me to
finally choose
but one
debauchery
— or repent
I partied in one
and wrote in the other
as
distance
protected
the lie
A dualist slave
in the paradox
of hell
a prodigal
— whose well had run dry
(Dreamsleep: February, 2026)
There was a sweet beloved great-grandma.
She had a rambunctious granddaughter.
The young woman had found her dharma,
To find the one her soul knew since forever.
Though her grandchild was now fully grown,
She always would worry for her and pray.
The young woman found a love she's known
From eons ago, then met on an autumn day.
The grandmother's livelihood began to burn.
The grandchild realized soon she'll be gone.
After leaves fell, she invited her to return
To her homeland buried in snow that shone.
The prodigal granddaughter was returned
Into one more visit before God takes her.
She had a sweet life the grandchild yearned.
She's in her all of her memories forever.
Trapped in the meter
a prisoner of rhyme
My spirit indicted
a felon of time
A minstrel’s disciple
epistle in hand
The sound and the rhythm
my soul’s contraband
New couplets my jailer
their sentences cursed
The key to their freedom
locked deep in the verse
And serving in silence
chalk marks on the wall
I listen intently
for one voice to call
Awaiting its pardon
this exile to end
My words liberated
— to forever ascend
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)
A thousand words won't be enough.
A thousand letters fall short.
Bounded by the jaws of guilt
Bounded by the claws of repentance
I most atone for my sins.
I most clear this cub webbs in my cupboard.
So I write this letter.
So I send this message.
Of a repentant heart.
Of a repentant servant.
Having jollied with silken girls.
Having danced with fair maidens.
Having partied with so called friends .
Having partied with realistic frenemies.
Upon being blinded by fake gold
Upon being sold to bold pride.
I am left penniless like the nomad slaves.
I am left powerless like Babylon to persia.
Reason stroke like lightning.
Rather I perish in time, I better of a servant in my own father's house.
So I journeyed from Rome.
So I returned to the land of my birth.
I was shocked to have been missed.
I was shocked to have been exalted as a warrior from battle.
Thus this self-rejected stone became the chief corner stone
Thus,I am called "The Prodigal Son".
It’s never too late
to pause the chase
to stop running like a mad dog
after a world that never turns back.
It’s never too late
to stand in the open sun
after years of hiding in shadows
to finally thirst for the light.
It’s never too late
to shed the robe of shame
to return to the road
you were always meant to walk.
Home never shuts its doors.
A father’s arms never forget.
Even the prodigal
still has a place at the table.
Full of Forgiveness
full of forgiveness
He is generous and kind
the loving Father
even to someone like me
a true prodigal son
Deafening
rapid fire blasts
Shatter
the transluscent margins of
Silence
with
Harrowed cries
gasped
Howls
echo from one side to the other
Of the heart’s vast arena
with a repeating chorus
of ruing
Pleas
Of the gone lost
Groaning for home
in frayed syllables
Grasping
at last
To a measure of hope
Possible
in a faith’s apologies
And abiding love’s
Pronounced touch
of forgiveness…
** “I am the prodigal son every time I search for
unconditional love where it cannot be found.”
Henri Nouwen: “ The Prodigal Son “
—————————
(c) sally eslinger 2/3/2025
You keep searching for me,
On streets of hopelessness, endlessly.
Your eyes see through my life’s despair,
A silent witness to the burdens I bear.
Your heart longs for my return,
Oh Lord, your love forever burns.
Reach out your hands; don’t let me fall,
I hear your voice, your faithful call.
You keep searching, though I stray,
Your eyes watch through my coldest days.
Never resting, never dim,
Your light guides me back to Him.
Embrace me now, help me to stand,
Carry me gently in your hand.
Lead me, Lord, to your perfect way,
Forgive my sins—I’m here to stay.
You remind me of your faithfulness,
Oh Lord, your love is endless.
Reach out your hands; I hear your plea,
I’m coming home, please hold me.
You are so good, so wonderful,
Your love eternal, pure, and beautiful.
Your faithfulness never fades away—
Reach out your hands; I’ll follow, I’ll obey.
I’m coming back, with all my heart,
Lead me, Lord, to a brand-new start.
Your grace, your mercy, forever true,
Reach out your hands—I’m coming back to you.
A begging bowl, I scarce can pay thy debt,
Let me then indebted to thee remain
For life, to cherish thy bounties I get,
If I wish to give, wonder what’ll ye gain?
So then, I opt to sing paeans of praise—
A lay man plunged in hankering a heart,
A grateful toast to thee is all I raise,
O lighten up my life's much-loaded cart.
As thy child, pray help me grateful to stay,
Amidst all bounties blissfully less blasé,
By lures of life much less carried away,
Be thou indulgent to my wanton ways,
My destiny ‘tis to die dunk in debt—
Prodigal son of thine all so ingrate.
__________________________________
Sonnet | 01.06.2008 | son, prayer
Poet’s note: Man in his life span is so much under divine benevolence, he can never hope to repay his debt. All he can do is to remain ever grateful to God.
Jesus, you say bring home my sheep
You say be a shepherd like perfect You
I say my sheep have gone prodigal
They have my credit card, I say resigned
At least they buy cheap wine on my dime
They’ve discovered tobacco, too
They won’t come home, I’ve tried
My mind has escaped me, I bleat
But, my body has returned to the barn
And the mind are homeless sheep
They want to go AWOL at every chance
They know my arms are not open though I try
Nevertheless, the mind and body are one
I am their pen and prodigal sheep
I am the arms closed and deserter
I am the sheep and herder
Isn’t that right, great shepherd?
Ask not what you, Jesus, can do for me
Ask what I can do for my sheep
I don't ask you to return my flock
You say, kindly woo them with contrition
Take them to the bar and pay the tab
Let them drink their fill if need be
Bring the sheep home in a cab
Leave the pen open just in case
If the sheep go prodigal again
Let them know there’s no place like home
Where else can they roam?
Jesus, I’m your lost lamb
I’m waiting at the bar
Come rescue us
Fields of Grace
David J Walker
A gift of God
The shadows shroud
And cloud
The arrant thoughts
Aloud
And not allowed
Alone on shore
Abandoned in
A metaphor
Abandoned in
An awkward wind
Enticement to
Come home again
Come home
Triumphant prodigal son
And wash the feet
Of everyone
That everyone
May be allowed
Gracious royal robes
endowed
Fields of Grace
His Face
Endowed
In midst of pleasure,in fun and excitement ,
leaving His hand I ran,got lost and
could not find my way and called him a prodigal father.
Thinking He should have come after me ,
I myself turned my back on Him
and proclaimed Him to be a prodigal father .
When it struck me mind ,
how dirty my life had become .
I turned back to Him and tried to find my way .
Tired of trying ,I lost all hope but at the end ,
I saw Him standing on a hilltop,
arms open wide to take me into an embrace ,
to forgive me of all my sins and make me whole again .
It was then I understood that I was the prodigal son ,
but He always remained a loyal father .
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