March 28, 2025

My Journey to God

To The Prodigal

First self-inherited, then dispossessed
by self-same self-love, O rebellious son,
you lay beside the swine yet have no rest
nor help from stranger since the money’s run.

“Perhaps,” you think, “I’ll not go back. For my
“brother will surely berate me, and not
“without cause. Heavy on my shoulders I
“have placed this weight, and can that be forgot?”

I beg you, son, do not let these thoughts keep
your feet from the path. Let your hunger push
you even to the servant’s place. For sleep
now may well mean death. Surely you will blush,
but mercy tires men, not Divinity.
Go home! Go home! The Father waits for thee!

By Leonard Easlick
 

(Leonard Easlick is a member of St. Joan of Arc Parish in Indianapolis.) †

Local site Links: