In his carriage on the muddy street

Passing the people with grimy feet

Wheels crash against the puddle

Around the fires bodies huddle

 

He calls out for days and nights

The space within grows ever tight 

Bodies fill his once empty carriage

More carts join his in ecclesiastical marriage 

 

He leads the cart and teaches loudly

Men hear his voice and what he says profoundly

Yet it is not his whit that draws them near

Or causes their face to receive each tear

 

The preacher wrapped in a robe of light

Steals the gaze of those with sight

And in this grand and glorious heist

Men come to fix their hearts on Christ

 

Thus through the streets his carriage is swallowed

While some ride along

And others follow

 

His congregation gives him praise

But not because he can save

For he points to the one that does

Who will be, is, and was

 

Yet one day the man lost his way

He forgot his role

A price to pay

For being accountable for every soul that faced decay and faced the hole

His countenance become weary and dull

 

As a teacher he received his garment

The one he now laments

For it is the name of his Champion

And what was once white is now marred with stain 

 

On the day his guard was down

He left his carriage to the town

And met with those who hate his grace

The preaching man fed his taste

 

And the inside of his robe got splashed with dirt

As he saw the stain from his worldly flirt

Yet back to his carriage in secret sober

His robe yet white to outside observer 

 

So he again preached within his cart

Painting a picture as spiritual art

While his robes and skin with mud

Marked with grime by the worlds cud 

 

And each night the thought would entice

To go against the way of the wise

Leaving the bed of his beloved wife

Forsaking the health of his church's life

 

With no watch after he preached

He snuck to the ground beneath

The carriage vanished as he slipped away

As did the light of day

 

He met again with foe called friend

And partook in his wretched end

His sermons did not stop his hand

Nor the law against his heart's command

 

Merry with joy he had to be quiet

The road of the wicked was empty and silent 

He saw his carriage and before he ran

He tripped against his holy plan

 

The once white robe now brown and black

What was holy bore holes and stripes upon his back

And many saw the one who taught

And many saw the one who fell

 

He tried to preach his sermons clean

But sinners saw the sacred scene

The preaching man acted as actors do

With petty sins that only grew

 

So his colored robe all tattered up, slid upon the ground and was dragged through mud

Some listened to his words

But others thought him disqualified, unworthy, absurd

 

He tried to wash away the stains

A wasted life thrown to the drains

His ministry now a miserable joke

For choosing the world's tempting yoke

 

And this preacher was taken to the celestial carriage

As one day he reached old age 

He stood before His Champion

Unsure of his worth or his sin

 

The Champion saw his tattered cloth

Eaten away by sin and moth

The preacher felt a world of shame

As he heard the words, "What have you done with My name?"

 

In that moment the robe came alive

To kill the man who used to thrive

But the Champion still took the shame, upon Himself, upon His name.

 

The preacher was humbled and at a loss

But still reminded of the cross

The light of Christ could have shined through Him

To a watching world filled with sin

 

So believers listen here

Take this reason to fear

The robe of white you have will stain

If even brushed by the world's grain

 

Let your light shine

Kill the dark

Remain holy 

This is art