by Stefon Napier11 Jun 2014
But leave your weathered laurels and empty cups
for he is coming but he will not stir today’s dust.
So court royals leave your famished minds,
sore women your empty lust.
And he will come unbidden, though not by night
But slowly with the dawn as it creeps over mountains
Onto a Himalayan morning so that in the shimmer all the frosted peaks ignite.
And he will come saved from riches ease
In a working man’s body to answer life’s great pleas
He will come as a human and as a king
But only if we are still people in his dreams.