You are the parable:
the lost lamb, the goat amongst sheep,
a mustard seed, the feast
and the dinner guests,
a fig tree, barren and budding.
All these stories are your story-
Don’t you remember that time when you fought
and said things you shouldn’t have
and all that stuff was so unforgivable.
But it wasn’t.
And now here you are with a family and children
of your own and you are cherished beyond
Or you are the eldest, the good girl that never
gave them a minutes worry. And you had to welcome
that no good son of bitch back
after he climbed out of the pig sty and cleaned himself up.
But now you know,
’cause you have been the prodigal too.
A parable, a pearl of great price, a seed sown in good soil,
a wise servant, a friend at midnight.
One who was lost
separating the goats
from the sheep-
cleaning out closets
for the lost silver coin-
treasures found under the bed
separating the wheat
from the chaff-
boxes for moving, giving, recycling
the last will be first,
the first will be last-
loading the storage building
Is it Aesop’s fable about fox and grapes
or an obscure parable from another sage-
the fox, red and handsome,
the grapes, rich and purple,
and the vine?
Maybe the vines the story-
the twisted shape rising to the highest point,
looking out over ridge to ridge
reaching into the world.
Maybe the fabled fox is clever
and the grapes tempting
and the vine always moving to make its way.
A fable of twists and turns,
a fox in the henhouse,
the wine and sour grapes.
And the vine.
See it comes back to the vine.
The parable is distorted,
we are drunk and outfoxed,
on the vine.
*** written and posted several years ago – but thought it was a good match for the dVerse prompt today.