There goes Jesus, jogging;
short black beard,
long black hair bobbing with every step,
striding easily along,
savouring the fresh, French early morning air.There goes Jesus, jogging;
I see him through the slats of the wooden fence
as he lopes down the lane.
I’d like to run beside him,
talk, if I have enough breath.
but exercise and I have ever been on speaking terms.There goes Jesus, jogging;
keeping fit for the road ahead,
the one for which I feel lamentably unfit.
I want him to slow down,
let me catch up,
but he jogs on,
intent on his inner conversations.There goes Jesus, jogging;
Will I ever catch up with him?
I don’t know.
But I do know that
unless I get into my track suit,
tie up my trainers,
and take that first step in faith
it will never happen.
short black beard,
long black hair bobbing with every step,
striding easily along,
savouring the fresh, French early morning air.There goes Jesus, jogging;
I see him through the slats of the wooden fence
as he lopes down the lane.
I’d like to run beside him,
talk, if I have enough breath.
but exercise and I have ever been on speaking terms.There goes Jesus, jogging;
keeping fit for the road ahead,
the one for which I feel lamentably unfit.
I want him to slow down,
let me catch up,
but he jogs on,
intent on his inner conversations.There goes Jesus, jogging;
Will I ever catch up with him?
I don’t know.
But I do know that
unless I get into my track suit,
tie up my trainers,
and take that first step in faith
it will never happen.
There goes Jesus, jogging;
and I know I must follow.
© Sr. Sandra CSBC
Taizé, 17th May 2015
Christmas Poems
Easter Poems
Ash Wednesday
Maundy Thursday
Good Friday
Holy Saturday
Easter Day
If you are interested in more, or for other enquiries, please contact the Rev’d. Sr. Sandra Sears at: srskscsbc@bigpond.com