Wrong Mountain!

He came on down from the mountain like

An ancient prophet of old,

His hair was long, and fine and white

And his neck was chained with gold,

He carried a staff as he limped on in

To the farm, and asked for a bed,

I said, ‘We live in the farmhouse here,

But there’s hay in the cattle shed.’

 

He thanked me then and he stayed the night

I thought he’d be gone at dawn,

But the sun was high on the mountainside

When I saw him stand in the corn,

‘Your Lord provides and is bountiful,

You must have kept his commands,

My people wandered for forty years

In the drift of the desert sands.’

 

I asked him if I could know his name

For the strangers here were few,

He looked askance, but he shook my hand,

‘It’s Moses, here, to you.

I’m on my way to the Canaanites

Who possess my promised lands,

But I need to know where I have to go

I’m a stranger in your hands.’

 

I thought he must have been wandering,

Some defect of the mind,

I said, ‘You’re not on the continent

That you want so hard to find,

That mountain there isn’t Sinai,

We’re far too south to gauge,

This farm’s in Eastern Australia

By the Great Dividing Range.

 

He shook his head and his eyes went dead

And he turned towards the creek,

It was riding high with a swollen tide

For the best part of a week,

I thought, he’ll never get over that,

The current is far too strong,

But he beat his staff on the bank, three times,

How could I be so wrong?

 

The water parted, it ceased to flow,

But it raised in two tall towers,

Then he set off in the midst of it,

I sat in shock for hours,

The last I saw he was marching off

As the creek collapsed to flow,

I thought, ‘and the best of British luck,

You’ve a helluva way to go!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Barbz]

There's something about this stranger, could he have lost his way? Was there a rhyme, perhaps reason, caused him to go astray. Your words suggest a promised land, a place of once he'd known. The waters spred and he slowly fled, to a place of crown and throne? No, that's another mountain, a place that once he knew. Was he the man who felt HIS hand, or just a wandering Jew......Barbz

[R Smith]

must have been wandering for thousands of years David, maybe you should have offered him some tea, another from your endless supply of intriguing stories, well done my friend :)

[Avinash]

Seems like all prophets have lost their ways in our times like the Moses in your story. It always intrigues me to know what they would have done in our times.

[Marie]

Did he look anything like Charleton Heston?

Sorry, that just slipped out.

He's certainly a long way from the Promised Land, but I believe he'll find his way there, though it may take him forty years...

[A Soap Mess Stories]

A wonderful tale, David, as always..... :-)

[Valentine]

I will be thinking on what caused you to write this for some time. What in the world triggered this write into your head? For sure the poor guy was lost and if he continued on from there he was still lost. Let me know what triggered this one Mate? You are so crafty and I mean that both ways..Kathie

[MomzillaNC]

This is just plain intriguing.