[Note: August 29, 2016 – While I don’t disavow this poem, I now think that the imagery does have troubling aspects because of the real-life history of colonialism and the misuse of religion in exploitation and conquest. Just please keep that in mind.]

Medicine Man

They who have ears to hear, let me tell a parable of sorrow and tears:

A woman walked blind, her sight blurred, a medicine man claimed he could help her.

He chanted and called, hemmed and hawed, but still the women walked in dark.

Treatment was to no avail, his vain attempts would not prevail.

Cruel regimens and painful treatments, magic charms and foul ointments, no remedy could be found.

A physician appeared, with a surefire Cure, he said to the woman that his Treatment was sure.

He explained with care that his Way was easy to bear, it would free the woman from Dark.

Imagine the surprise that crossed his eyes, the furrows in his brow,

When the woman cried out with a voice so loud:

“I will not accept your cure. How insolent and intolerant you must be, to think you are better than me.

My beliefs work for me, so do not dare impose yours. You claim that all my ancestors were wrong,

But beliefs which worked for my fathers and their fathers and theirs, those surely will work for me.”

So the physician left there, approaching despair, the woman’s words rattling his head.

For beliefs so dear, though they seem crystal clear, do not matter if one is Blind and Dead.

So they who have ears to hear let them hear, and learn from this parable of sorrow and tears.

© 2011 Kenneth Mick III