The Revival

Once upon a time, in a hamlet far away,
There lived a young man, who said had found The Way.
He prayed morn and night,
And never picked a fight.
And all day long
Would walk the mile or two
Through the path that led from his hut
To the mount against the blue.
He never spoke a word
Nor ever smiled
As men and women watched
His hunched up figure pass by.
His hut was near the village gate,
Was nothing much for a sight
With a little garden in front
That was fenced up from thieving tykes.
The flowers were his companions
To whom he talked everyday
When he came out each evening
With water in a kettle to spray.
None would question his uprightness
As there was none to match his
But all he lacked in him
Was friends of his likeness.

There was another man
Who was his long time neighbour.
He was the son of a rich merchant
Who left his wealth with his only son
And died a sudden death.
The son had many friends
Who stuck to him like flies
And helped him use the riches
While they helped themselves in the guise.
Laughter ensued every evening
From the wallowing within
And dragged into the night
As the carousal went on.
His Godly neighbour as he watered the plants
Often thanked the Lord for what he is
And would pray to the Father,
With all his might but scorn on his face
For a change in the prodigal son.

Days and years flitted past
And died like fireflies...

One morning the godly man awoke
To an unusual racket that arose.
Irked he was, his sleep dispelled
And yet he felt curious in the head.
The noise seemed to come
From his rich neighbour's abode, he guessed!
He peeked his head out of the door
And was struck with wonderment
At the sight that he beheld.

The village on the whole
Had gathered around the rich man's house
Cries and murmur mingled together
And someone from within was speaking aloud.
Our godly man hurried
To the scene and for the first time
He spoke to a man beside him.
"Tell me man, he said, what's the big rush?"
The man looked at him for long
And as he understood him to be the lone
He spoke thus, " The man of the house is changed!
He travelled many places
And spent as if he was the king.
Then he lost his wealth in a flash
And with maladies untold was rooted to the bed.
Then he cried unto the Creator with all his heart,
His cry for pardon was heard at last
And now he is well in his body and mind.
He came running out of the his home,
To the village square
And shouted and danced for joy,
To hear his story and to seek God
Now all from far and wide
And have reached his home today morn
It is a miracle, for us all!!"

The young man staggered
As he heard the amazing tale
And couldn't hold his ire for a while
It was he who had prayed for change in them
He had fasted and prayed
His knees were frayed!
He had called on God for a revival
But only through him may it start, he had asked.
And now this...
As he swayed back to his home,
Still dazed at the drama, now behind him
A still small voice said, "My son,
Revival is nothing but a change in you alone..."