- Books, Literature, and Writing»
- Poems & Poetry
"A Bus Ride With a Prophet" by Eric Wayne Flynn
"A Bus Ride with a Prophet"
"Have you taken this route before?" he asked
"Yes, often i have" I replied
"Do you like Buffalo, Lamb or Pheasant?" he asked
"No, not really... I wouldn't want to kill a lamb" I sighed
"Why not? That's good eating. Cain killed Abel, he a vegetable farmer not willing to slaughter, he shed his brother's blood, yet wouldn't kill the lamb for sacrifice to God."
"But, didn't Cain burn his fields as a sacrifice just the same?" I questioned it odd.
"Yes, but wheat and barley do not possess a heartbeat or a name, so the sacrifice isn't the same."
I wanted to challenge and question the prophet some more, but I refrained.
"I see... Cain sacrificed his harvest and burned his crops, but that isn't equal to the sacrificial lamb."
"Yep, Cain shed no blood until he killed Abel in a jealous rage and left him to die in the sand."
"Unwilling to kill a lamb, but so jealous of God's love for another he'd kill his own brother?" I asked confused
"Prideful men sometimes put themselves before all others" he said bemused.
"Ya know there are 7 billion now fighting for grain and beasts as we speak?... Crazy to think that once there were only two"
"If man were more self sufficient there would be nothing to fight for, there would be peace... the first two messed it up and set the wheels in motion, now what do we do?"
"Maybe that's the point of the story all along, provide for yourself and your family and give thanks to the fruit of the land?" I assumed.
The prophet replied "That message has definitely fallen upon death ears. I can preach and preach but no one can bear the cry of the lamb" he presumed.
I boasted "Ya know i ride this bus everyday cuz i ain't willing to play their game."
The prophet said "I hear ya man, it starts with self and we've only got ourselves to blame."
I adjusted in my seat and replied "Exactly, no one wants to let go of their illusion of comfort for the greater good...We all just want our share of the paste."
Disheartened the prophet replied "Sad part is I've never been comfortable, I just can't acquire the taste."
I agreed and carried on "We're all chasing, we're just rats in a cage. Except most rats can't see the bars, because their cage is full of cheese."
The prophet laughed "Right, the cheese is the illusion, the cheese a disease."
The bus dinged it had come to a stop, the prophet rose from his seat and said "Good talking to you brother, keep up the good fight.
"I do my best but it's hard with the end in sight."
"You gotta have some faith..." the prophet said, scratched his hot head then continued "...what happens if we finally do get angry and hungry enough to erupt and not just sit and decay in the sun?"
"It's human nature, power corrupts the soul it abducts and the first two brothers couldn't even coexist, so it seems what's done is done."
The prophet made his way off of the bus and walked out into the sun. I the same a few moments later. Our conversation trapped in a vacuum with wheels; headed for a cliff. Falling, crashing and burning, we had never made a sound.
The bus; left burning next to a field of grain on fire. Written in lambs blood on the front window, it read "We all explode when one succumbs to desire."