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Forgive me if I stare
at the fatted calf, the ring, the shoes,
the robe, ...... the empty chair.
You're not there, -you're never there.
The dazed guests sit stupidly yearning,
dismayed by their shame,
ready to give absolution,
grant you a reprieve.
They bear no malice
They let bygones be bygones
They bury the hatchet
They turn the other cheek.
But you're not there, - you're never there.
Forgive me if I stare (at the empty chair) .
You say you're an outcast,
cast out, castaway
a rascal, a reprobate, a scoundrel, .....
A black sheep, you claim.
More like a wolf in sheep's clothing,
a bane to sheep, I say.
You don't know this.........but they're still there,
gathered around your chair,
Pondering their forgiveness,
hoping to proffer it.
Forgive me if I stare.
Callista Caduceus
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