“Set Three,” Poems by Day Williams

When Spies Run Free

Last Days
Workin’ for the FBI
Senators’ Delight
Becoming Sixty-Four
Renegades in Jail
Joe’s Movie
Look into Depths of Things

When Spies Run Free

When spies run free, then why not me
Across the NSA?
I can record the campaign plans
Of billionaires with cares
The other side will not collide
Because we will assure their loss
I share the best intel with zest
When spies run free.

When spies run free, why not thee?
Uranium will glow
I will enrich my family
Pay to play in my prime
Run with the wind across the sea
And trade your country’s best
To reach the zone where it’s been stolen
When spies run free.

When spies run free, then history
May lay our secrets bare
Such theft can be a mockery
Of patriots called
To share their lights in planet nights
Men have no friends in treachery
The conscience gnaws despite the cause
When spies run free.


Last Days

The homeless in America are cold
While Senators lean back in their sleek cars;
Abusive nightmares haunt the children’s nights
As parents huddle drunk in dingy bars.

The Dollar is adored from coast to coast
While prophets are attacked (or worse) ignored;
T.V. delights in violence and sex
As its consumers stay smug, drugged and bored.

As Chastity’s regarded as a curse,
Fidelity’s assailed on every side;
With easy money couples get divorced
As if the Lord, who hates all sin, has died.

The leaders lose their sight of Christ’s tall cross
And masses stumble under weights of sins;
The Trivial is worshiped at new shrines
And Lucifer cannot conceal his grin.

Men trample rights of widows and the poor,
Few hear the silent screams of those unborn
Who are aborted–murdered by the wolves
Who howl, “Rejoice!” when all who know should mourn.

The prophet Daniel said in the Last Days
Man’s knowledge will increase, and yet Saint Paul
Declared that knowledge puffs man up, and that
It’s love, which never fails, that’s over all.

For God so loved the world he gave his Son,
And an eternal life belongs to you
If you believe in Christ, the one God sent,
The Root of David who makes all things new.

The stone has rolled and Jesus is alive,
He will return as Judge of goats and sheep;
Now is the time to pray, the Day is near,
For those who labor in the Lord will reap.

~Day Williams

Workin’ for the FBI

Tell me a tale, you go to jail
You give me guff, you’ll see who’s tough
You get me pissed, you’re on the list
When you are killed, I am fulfilled

I’m workin’ for the FBI
I’m a law enforcement guy

You lie to me, you won’t be free,
Don’t call me out, I’ve got big clout
You “patriots” are monkey butts
You “citizens” are firing pins

I’m workin’ for the FBI
I’m a law enforcement guy

Embarrass us, we’ll fight and fuss
That Finicum was overcome
A cowboy hero was one big zero.
Don’t mess with fate, dude, we shoot straight

I’m workin’ for the FBI
I’m a law enforcement guy

You want the law? That’s us, McGraw
We’ll find pretexts if we are vexed
We lost some texts while having sex
And we’re perplexed below our necks

I’m workin’ for the FBI
I’m a law enforcement guy

You’ll go to jail and have no bail
We’ll hide your file with you’re in trial
You’ll never budge, we own the judge
So we can say she’ll go our way

I’m workin’ for the FBI
I’m a law enforcement guy

We want your guns, don’t fight us, son
We know the route, we’ll stage a shoot
You’ll walk and run to take the guns
So we’ll have power and you will cower

~Day Williams

Senators’ Delight

If anyone causes one of these little ones–those who believe in me–to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.
~Mt. 18:6

Before the vote, they drink and gloat,
Strong men on basement chairs;
They make the boys provide their joy,
And toast their love affairs

With blood and gore and sex-slave whores.
They chortle at forced sex,
The power pushes through their pores;
They crack the children’s necks.

The children’s pain excites their brains,
The world at their command:
They’re at the top and each new crop
Delights their ancient glands.

They can excuse each act they do
With clever rationales
As they abuse, pervert, subdue
The powerless with pals.

They smugly own the Nowhere Zone
Where consciences are seared;
With double face they win their race,
Their words and might revered.

With wealth untold, their acts are bold
(Protected from above);
They have beguiled your missing child,
That boy, that girl, you love.

The day they die, no angels cry
To see them fall below,
As sulfur fire won’t quench desire,
They burn in lava flows.

~Day Williams


The hostess sells her paintings, thirty bills
Apiece, to pay divorce attorney’s fees;
Sammy swallows two hundred fifty pills
And drinks green tea for immortality,

And Nancy Narcissist preens in front of
Seven antique mirrors while the Vid Man
Records her every gesture in self-love
To make a monument for her mad fans.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals,
Stakeout is two doors down,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs,
This party’s goin’ down.

Psycho Sal checks the bathroom medicines,
Hot Pants the Supermodel checks for lint
On Stocktrader Tom’s sleeve; he drinks and grins
At Sallie’s dirty jokes (she’s worth a mint)

As she plays the latest music, knows the words
To every track and turns her back to Jack,
Who winks at her across a couch and bores
His editor, who suffers heart attacks.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals,
Stakeout is two doors down,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs,
This party’s goin’ down.

The Scientologist concocts a tale
To keep her on the tabloid covers; strange
Professor Vaughn has cut his penis off,
Tells students that the President’s deranged.

A kitchen pair play spoons to backwoods tunes,
Tuxedo Tom has tickets for the show,
Front-row seats for an aging pop tycoon
Who sells him his fresh drugs from Mexico.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals,
Stakeout is two doors down,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs,
This party’s goin’ down.

The rapper spills a drink and mops it up
With Cover Girl’s fur coat, her belt, her lace;
The late-night host slips her a mickey, licks
Her ear and cheek, and keeps a poker face.

The rising starlet bats her eyelashes
At the producer who has lost his wife–
A plane crash in the Andes–she lunges fast
At him as he derides the right to life.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals,
Stakeout is two doors down,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs,
This party’s goin’ down.

She checks her cell and pops a pill, she stops
To reapply her lipstick, blush,  and rouge
While Greenwich Village painter-man talks shop
About his triptych featured in the Louvre.

The Gender Studies major wants her X
To be a Y, so she has joined a cult
Where chromosomes are curdled by swan necks
In Psilocybin syrup for results.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals,
Stakeout is two doors down,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs,
This party’s goin’ down.

The upstairs bedrooms brew with body heat,
And no one talks about the campaign man
Who lured two girls downstairs with bags of sweets
And stories how he fought the Ku Klux Klan.

Behind the banister the nightgown kids
Sneak peeks at smoke and drinks and tailored clothes
‘Til Mom shoos them upstairs to watch their vids
Of princesses who would not decompose.

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals,
Stakeout is two doors down,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs,
This party’s goin’ down.

The anti-fascist who derailed a train
Announces that the honored guest has come
With spells to share her Spirit-Cooking pain,
To make the babies squirm and squall in tubs,

To drink for power the adrenochrome,
To hypnotize with lights and chants and codes.
“With eyes wide shut start fires to chomp down homes,
Destroy the Old, bring in what will corrode.”

High heels, big wheels, dark deals, sharp steals
Stakeout is two doors down,
Rough drugs, bad thugs, warm hugs, good bugs
This party’s goin’ down.

~Day Williams

Becoming Sixty-Four

I’m coming up
On sixty-four
I’ll need a cane
To walk the floor

I’ll rise to pee
Ten times a night
Sometimes I’ll see
The food I bite

My bald pate shines
From porch to shed
A baseball cap
Will hide my head

I will employ
More doctors than
The wrinkles in
My swollen hands

I’ll check obits
If I’m not there
I’ll wander ‘round
In underwear

I’ll sport new teeth,
New hips, new hair,
I’ll have no job,
I’ll have no cares

‘Cept when I drift
Around the block
I’ll stop to pick
Up colored rocks

And trudge with cane
To First and Vine
And ask myself,
“Which house is mine?”

I’ll drive a car
When I can’t see
Firemen will lift
Me from a tree

I’ll tell about
My childhood pond
While grownups snore
And children yawn

I won’t recall
My childhood friends
Nor they me:
So do lives end.

I’ll mow the lawn
If I have aid:
While you cut grass
I’ll rest in shade

I’ll plant some seeds
And make them grow
Then wipe them out
With rake and hoe

My wife will ask,
“What of those seeds?”
“What seeds?” I’ll say,
“I took out weeds.”

And we’ll relax
On rocking chairs
And talk of days
When I had hair

As crickets chirp
And pigeons coo
I’ll fall asleep
And you will snooze . . .

We’ll whirl and twirl
On golden streets
Where no one cries
And life is sweet.

~Day Williams

Renegades in Jail

By stops and starts the storm arose:
Warm wind, soft rain, light snow.
At first it landed on the clothes
And did not brush the soul.

The storm increased as more awoke
And prayed for God to send
Sterner storms that would pick and poke
Beneath the skin, and end

The reign of renegades who’d gone
Unfazed by rising winds,
Lawbreakers who would wink and don
Cloaks that protected skins.

The wind bit hard, no longer warm,
And crawled inside the heart.
Poor reason perished in the storm,
Bright minds had lost their art

To plant deceit in treachery.
An evil plan recoils
Upon its maker, who won’t see
The traps until he’s foiled.

The wind bit hard, and when the sun
Came out from clouds and shone,
The renegades, their senses stunned,
Were found in cells, alone.

~Day Williams

Joe’s Movie

The local market offered me fresh fruit;
I held a bag of strawberries when Joe,
Film-maker who has never worn a suit,
Asked me to view his latest cut at home.

“This nightmare fogged my mind and followed me,
No matter how I tried to shake it off,
I shot the scenes as best my memory
Conceived it, though I may be growing soft.

Did we win World War II?” he asked his tea
As though I wasn’t there, and slid a disc
Into his player by a Harper Lee
Bird book to which he fixed a paper clip.

“A girl from the north woods gave me this book,”
He said, “when I left Phoenix for her place,
Which had been chaos, but on second look,
A midnight climax spruced up her mad space.”

“How did you feel?” I questioned. “Glad! I . . . Oh,
She made me feel I’d gone through gates to stars,
And we played like Bohemians in a grove,
Like we were space Marines who circled Mars.”

“Why aren’t you with her anymore?” I quizzed.
He caught himself, then wryly said, “Sometimes
You build a burger and make it sizzle . . .
Sometimes it tastes like Ajax dipped in grime.

What I am telling you . . . you understand?”
“No, here’s a coin if you will tell me more.”
And like a pro he said, “She met a man
Who talked of pizza, cheese, and dominoes,

Who salivated over hot dog stands
And went ballistic if the plumbing leaked,
As though he’d kill the man, for cash in hand,
Who caused it, rich or poor, urbane or geek.”

“So they weren’t meant to be?” “He skipped out on
Her; we’ve lost touch since she went to D.C.—
Another missing D.C. girl–foregone
Conclusion if you knew her company.”

“What of this movie you have filmed?” I asked.
“Inception plays among Joint Chiefs of Staff
Where Pentagon commanders wear black masks
Into great halls where spies take polygraphs

As Clockwork Orange chimes in Dulce base
While horrid mutants whimper underground
And robot soldiers run a close-watched race,
Roswell to Sandy Hook to Proving Ground.

Meanwhile, at Jekyll Island, bankers plot— ”
“I’m sorry, but I must go home to see
The missus,” said I, “and our boy, the tot,
Wants me to help him decorate the tree.”

And Joe I never saw again, though he’d
Sent postcards postmarked only with a “Q”:
The locals found his body late one eve
And deputies recovered his canoe.

~Day Williams

Look into depths of things

Change your way of thinking
Look into depths of things
Inside that scrawny boy
May be the makings of a king.

~Day Williams


Eyeless in Gaza

At the Philistines’ Temple
I used to lead the Jews, you understand?
Today a servant leads me by the hand,
I’m sightless and you lead me to perform
For Philistines, my enemies, a swarm
Of locusts who have plagued our land for years
‘Til, like the sun, I cleared the atmosphere:
Inspired by the Spirit of the Lord,
I killed a thousand and a thousand more.
If you don’t mind, put me where I can feel
The temple pillars, so that I may lean
Against them, thank you for your courtesy
And I will tell you how this came to be.

My Birth
The Israelites did evil in God’s sight
So He let Philistines exert their might
Against them forty years, then sent a man
To start delivering them from their hands.

A man of Zorah named Manoah wed
A woman who was barren, childless, dead
Inside, until the angel of the Lord
Appeared to her with a heartening report:

She would conceive and bear a son; with might
He’d start delivering the Israelites
From Philistine control; a Nazirite,
He would be set apart and not drink wine,
No razor ever was to touch his hair
And you will raise him by these rules, with care.

So I was born and grew, and in me stirred
The Spirit of the Lord, which God conferred.
As muscles bulged on arms, and as my legs
Were thick as tree trunks, village boys would beg
To learn the secret of my strength, and I
Told them a secret must a secret lie
Or else it is no secret any more,
Yet it’s no secret that to trust the Lord
Gives men their strength, so spend your time in prayer.
God knows my strength was in my uncut hair,
Which was divided into seven braids,
And strength would leave me if my head were shaved.

I’m the Jews’ one-man weapon of destruction—
At least I was until I lost my unction:
A man can tempt the Lord and play with sin,
Have everything he wants and feels he wins
Until the Lord says, “I have had enough,”
And like a father with a child, gets tough
And takes the toys that tantalize the child,
For God confronts his children running wild.

My Wife
When I had eyes, I failed to use them well:
They landed on a woman, and I fell.
I told my parents, “Get that girl for me,”
(That’s how much I respected family)
She had the curves and moves like Pharaoh’s queen—
I didn’t care that she was Philistine
Or that the Philistines were enemies
Who stung us, ravaged us worse than disease;
These Dagon idol-worshipers who hate
The Jews, despise the Lord–I am too late
To recognize how wrong I was, controlled
By lust and rage–when mad, I’d rip large holes
In soldiers’ bodies, for they played my wife
A fool, their tool, for which I took their lives.

I traveled with my parents down to Timnah,
Where she resided, and we neared the vineyards
When a young lion came toward me and roared.
Without delay the Spirit of the Lord
Came on me with such power that I tore
The beast apart with my bare hands–the gore
I washed off in a spring; I never told
My parents how I killed it like a goat.

Samson Slaying a Lion by Gustave Doré

Returning later, going to marry her,
My bride, the Philistine from Timnon, there
Where I had killed the lion was a swarm
Of bees and honey: They had made their home
In his warm carcass, so I reached inside
And scooped out honey which I ate as I
Went down the road to Timnon for my bride,
I met and talked with her, and her I liked.

As was the custom, I set out a feast
And when they ate and drank, and noise increased
I said. “Let’s bet for thirty sets of clothes

Samson’s Wedding by Rembrandt

Upon a riddle that I have composed,”
And they agreed, so I said, “From the eater,
Something to eat, from strength comes something sweet.”
The townsmen only had a week to solve
The riddle, but to solve it were resolved.
Three days on, they could not reply to me,
And on the fourth day they told my wife this: “We’ll
Burn you and all your father’s house to graves
If you don’t coax your husband to explain
His riddle. Did you come here to rob us?
My wife came in to me and raised a fuss
And nagged and threw the furniture around
And broke the dishes (an annoying sound)
And wouldn’t sleep with me until she wore
Me down like sandpaper that rubs a board,
And like a fool I told her, she told them.
Before the sunset on day seven, men
From town said to me, “What is sweeter than
Honey? What’s stronger than a lion?” Man,
That stung me like bare feet on desert sand
In summer heat, and I told them, “If you
Had not gone plowing with my heifer, true
Answers you never would have found in days
Or weeks or years,” and then my anger blazed:
God’s Spirit came on me; to Ashkelon
I went and struck down thirty men of brawn,
Stripped them of their belongings, gave their clothes
To those who had explained my riddle, closed
The door behind me and went to see my father.
Behind my back they gave my wife to the man
Who had been by me at the wedding. I
Discovered that the father of my wife
Had so betrayed, so to set the score
Right with Philistines, I started war,
My private war, by going out to catch
Three hundred foxes and in pairs, attached
Their tails, and fastened torches to each pair
And let them go in standing grain–the glare
From a setting sun is nowhere as bright
As fields of grain in flames with blazing light,
Fire that burns olive groves and vineyards too.

The Philistines asked why I was so bent
On this destruction, and they learned my friend
Had been provided with my wife, and turned
To my wife and father-in-law, and they burned
The pair to death. “Since you’ve behaved like brats,”
I told the townsmen, “like a momma cat
Whose kits were killed by dogs, I won’t desist
‘Til I exact my full revenge for this.”
So I attacked them like a rabid beast
And let the widows weep for the deceased.

To the Servant
You have moved me, my friend, too far away
From pillars: Move me back and let me stay.

The Donkey’s Jawbone
Then I went and I stayed inside a cave
In Etam’s rock while Philistines, the knaves,
Gathered an army to take me prisoner,
Persuading Judah’s men to hand me over,
So they tied me with two new ropes and led
Me toward the enemy. I felt no dread
Or fear: God’s Spirit came on me in power
And ropes around my arms weakened like flowers,
Bindings dropped from hands, a jawbone lay on
The desert sand, a donkey’s jawbone gone
Long from the donkey’s body, and I swung
My makeshift weapon at the old and young
And ho! I laughed at many widows made
By me, Judge Samson, Sun-Man, unafraid,
I swung the bone on flesh ‘til I cracked bone,
Blood spurted, eyes rolled, men dropped with moans.
That day I killed a thousand men and stated,
“Using a donkey’s jawbone I have made
Donkeys of them, and with a donkey’s jawbone
I have struck down a thousand men like straw
Before the wind and rain,” then I was thirsty,
And the Lord opened up a spring that burst
With spray out of a hollow place in Lehi
I drank, my strength returned, I was revived.

People respected me and hated me,
For that is how a great man has to be:
A champion who lives out their pale dreams,
Or else a scamp (they say) who scorns and schemes,
An object of the people’s bitterness
On whom they vent self-loathing and distress . . .
Never mind. Musing so, I have digressed.
I’m at the right place now. Thank you for that.
Did I tell you my hair was growing back?

In Gaza
I went to Gaza, met a woman, cute,
I didn’t care she was a prostitute,
And I went in to spend the night with her.
A snitch told Philistines that I was there,
They ringed the building while I stroked her hair.
And planned to kill me at first light of dawn
For I could see them through the blinds we’d drawn
And I could hear the plans they made–too loud–
And so, to thwart the plan from this rude crowd,
I got up in the middle of the night
With flickering torches as my only light
I dodged their watchmen half-asleep by grates
I ran down streets to reach the city gate,
Took hold of the gate doors, pulled up the posts
And tore them loose–my back was to the coast—
I raised the bar and put it on my shoulders
And carried all this weight atop the hill
That faces Hebron on the east, the killers
In Gaza rose and saw my silhouette,
A man with crossbars on his shoulders. . . . Get

Some water for me–even vinegar
Would do, no wine, I don’t drink that–prefer
God’s water in a cup, as cold as streams
In mountains where a man may rest and dream.

You ask me about Delilah, delicate,
Deceitful, deadly, Delilah, who struts
‘Round Sorek Valley, wealthy from the bribes
She took against me: May there be a scribe
To tell about her peevish treachery,
She wore me down the way the roaring sea
Smacks rocks, and grain by grain, and bit by bit,
Rocks lose their bulk and shrink; if she had spit
Into my face because I’d done her wrong,
That would have been my due, but I was strong
And rulers of the Philistines desired
To know the secret of my strength and bribed
Her and she turned on me, though I had done
No wrong to her; I loved her from the sun
Rising in morning ‘til it set, through nights
To morning’s glow; faithful to her despite
The way she pestered me and questioned me
About my strength–its secret– “Let me be”
I told her many times, “Tie me with thongs,”
I told her, “seven fresh thongs: I’ll be strong
No more,” and she would hide men in my room
And call me, and supposed she’d watch my doom,
No! I would snap the thongs as easily
As string will snap when close to flame–you see,
I lied to her, she had me tied, she cried
Out, I broke free at once–perhaps my pride
Had got the best of me, because I tricked
Her twice more, and each time she grew more ticked
Off, questioned that I loved her when I’d fooled
Her three times in all, so I had to school
Her: That I was a Nazarite, one set
Apart for God while at my mother’s breast,
And that no one had ever cut my hair,
For if my head were shaved, to my despair
My strength would leave me and I’d be as weak
As any other man–that woman sneaked
Off to the rulers of the Philistines,
Who gave her silver for her evil scheme:
When I was sleeping in her lap, she called
A man to shave my hair ‘til I was bald;
He shaved my seven braids, my strength was gone.
Then she called out, “The Philistines are on
You, Samson,” and I thought that I would free
Myself as I had done before–but, see,
I did not know that God had gone from me.

They seized me, bound me, and they gouged my eyes
With not a Jew in town to hear my cries;
They shackled me, imprisoned me, compelled
Me to grind grain as women do so well.

Little have I put trust in Him who made
Creation and humanity; I’ve prayed
When sad and troubled, grieved, broken, depressed,
And I will pray again, for I’m distressed,
They dragged me out to entertain the crowd
And chained me to these pillars like a lout.

You took your Holy Spirit from me, Lord:
Let me once more receive His power poured,
That I may take revenge on them in death
And pull their temple down with my last breath.

Samson’s Death by Gustave Doré

~Day Williams 8/19

“Quotations Series #2” by Day Williams

7th Amendment 10mb

Postcard of Seventh Amendment

gifts call irrevocable 10mb

Postcard of “Irrevocable”


Vision 10mb

Postcard of “Vision”

Esther 4.14 sml

Postcard of “Royal Position”

“And who knows but that you have come to your royal position

for such a time as this?” ~Esther 4:14


Ephesians 5.11 10mb

Postcard of “Deeds of Darkness”

“Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.” ~Ephesians 5:11 (NIV)

Psalm 103.12 10mb

Postcard of Psalm 103:12

follow justice 10mb

Postcard of Follow Justice

Psalm 10.15 10mb

Postcard of Call the Evildoer to Account, Psalm 10:15b


Chesterton sml

Postcard of Chesterton on Want of Wonder 


Do Your Best sml

Postcard of “Do Your Best”

body of work 2 10mb

Postcard of “Body of Work”



Washington guns 10mb

George Washington on Firearms

“Firearms are second only to the Constitution in importance;

they are the people’s liberty’s teeth.”
~George Washington

“Gratitude,” sonnet by Day Williams

You’re the one who picks me up when I fall,
You’re the one opening doors that were shut,
You’re the one who can boost me over walls,
You’re the one healing me when I’ve been cut.

You asked me in to dine when no one cared
And healed the pain that no one else could see;
You gave me comfort when no one else dared
And shed your light on seeds that stirred in me.

You stood by during my rebellious years,
Leaving me free to make my own mistakes . . .
Self-willed, I faced frustration and despair.

When I invited you, my face in tears,
You answered to my needs and cured my aches−
And ever since I’ve felt your love and care.


~Day Williams

The Walk to Emmaus

That same day two disciples were on their

                    Way to Emmaus, a small town that’s nearly

                    Seven miles from Jerusalem. They were

Discussing everything that had occurred.

                    As they were talking with each other, Jesus

                    Himself came up and walked along with them;

But they were kept from recognizing him.

                    He asked them, “What are you discussing with

                    Each other as you walk along?” They stood

Still with their faces downcast. One of them

                    (Cleopas was his name) asked him, “Are you

                    The only person in Jerusalem

Who does not know the things that have occurred

                    There in these days?” “What things?” he asked. “About

                    Jesus of Nazareth,” they said. “He was

A prophet, powerful in word and deed

                    In front of God and all the people– how

                    The chief priests and our leaders handed him

Over to be condemned to death, and they 

                    Crucified him; but we had hoped that he

                    Would be the one to liberate the land

Of Israel. And what is more, it is

                    The third day since all this occurred. Besides

                    All this, some of our women staggered us.

Early this morning they went to the tomb

                    But didn’t find his body. They returned

                    And told us that they’d seen a vision of

Angels, who said he was alive. Then some

                    Of our companions ran out to the tomb

                    And sure enough, the body was not there,

Just as the women had informed us. He

                    Told them, “You are such foolish people, slow

                    Of heart to trust in all the prophets have

Spoken! Did not the prophets say the Christ

                    Would have to suffer all these things and then

                    Enter his glory?” And beginning with

Moses and all the Prophets, he explained

                    To them what was described in all the Scriptures

                    About himself. As they approached the town

Where they were going, Jesus acted as

                    If he were going farther. But they urged

                    Him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is close

To dusk; the day is almost over.” So

                    He went to stay with them. When he was with

                    Them at the table, he took bread, gave thanks,

Broke it and started giving it to them;

                    And then their eyes were opened and they knew

                    Who he was, but he disappeared from sight.

They asked each other, “Weren’t our hearts on fire

                    Within us while he talked with us along

                    The road and opened Scriptures up to us?”

Within the hour they were returning to

                    Jerusalem, where the Eleven and

                    Those with them greeted them by saying, “It

Is true! The Lord has risen and appeared

                    To Simon.” Then the two related what

                    Had happened on the way, and how they knew

Who Jesus was when he broke bread.

~Luke 24:13-35