The bitter old man stands at the gates of the earth
Guarding the only entrance and exit to this citadel planet.
The babies file in and the dead file out
And he watches them
Grimly keeping count.
He watches He waits
He shivers to shake
The tired cold from his limbs
For he must stay awake
For the one they say will attempt a salvation.
He keeps one eye on the horizon
On the distant reaches of the future
Where-from surely his nemesis will ride with armies
And demand entry:
The battle of the gates of the earth
So heighten awareness and tighten security and all the while…
He does not notice the infant God
Slipping in among the embryonic ranks
Of those awaiting entry.
To slip the trap of the powerful.
A Trojan baby
Now inside the citadel planet.
Waiting, hiding, growing
Evolving an inner salvation
(The original subversion)
uit "The Complex Christ"