The man from Samaria

The man from Samaria. 

July 2004

The whole world lies

On the road that goes

Through the hills to Jericho.

Now an army invades and conquers a state,

In the name of democracy planting hate,

And terrorism rears its desperate head

As the last resource of the otherwise dead,

While bombs burst daily in Baghdad,

And Afghanistan’s hills are cratered and sad,

And it’s years ago that the doves all flew

From the olive trees of Arab and Jew.

Once a man was attacked on the Jericho road,

And mugged and robbed and left for dead.

Who put his hand to the bleeding head,

And carried him back to food and a bed?

The righteous, they went cleanly by,

As white as snow,

For that’s the way the righteous go,

Eyes to the front, they calmly ride,

And keep well away on the other side.

Who paid for his keep in the local inn,

In such a businesslike way?

A man who just happened to be passing by,

From whom nothing good was expected.

His enemy was the man who stopped,

And lifted him up and took him in.