The Termite

A termite having bought a house did not forego to gnaw it;
You should’ve seen the damage done, it looked though he did saw it.
The shutters laced like curtains were, no door a peephole lacking,
The table heaped like kindling, the chairs stood without backing;
No hinge swung full, no window closed, the air it traveled freely,
It swept the floor of sawdust motes, which from the rain were mealy.

Companions came into his house and stayed for every meal;
He thought their love was genuine, their friendship it was real.
For hard times came upon him, and by him they did stick,
Consoled him for his frostbit toes, ignored his nervous tick.
When sickness came they sat in turns, spoon-feeding him his walls.
And when he died (he was outside) they bravely bore his palls.

The wake once done, deathbed consumed, they went their loathsome way
To find a friend more foolish still, and at the break of day
Upon a church they stumbled, and peepéd through a crack;
A host of men were kneeling there and in the very back
A sickly man knelt all alone, his skin it was a’peeling,
Adoring God with pounding heart, and asking for his healing.

A fool indeed they found before, and greater one now there,
For in his soul he brakéd down, his ego he did tear;
Content not just with poverty, his conscience he did wrack,
The edifice of self he shook, and walls of pride did hack.
He thought to strip off all defense—exposéd to the winds,
To face alone the son of man who died for all his sins.

The foolish now with Foolishness has found itself well matchéd
The sinner shuffling up the aisle has found the door unlatchéd
The Lord of all is waiting there, in sacramental veil;
Enthroned, exposed upon his cross, pinned there by sinner’s nail.
The hungry soul of this poor man, because he did adore it,
Consumed foundations of the world, and is the better for it.

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