Follow me.

And he got up and followed him.

He calls us too with this plea.

But we treat the call as a mere whim.

I was reading the depressing newspaper.

I started writing this poem and by chance.

Allegri’s Miserere came on the radio out of the vapour.

With this music my soul was cut with a loving lance.

And at a funeral this morning.

The requiem affected me deeply.

Thus chance sways our moving.

Perhaps casually , maybe profoundly.

We never know how or where we will hear the call.

Or how, in answering, we will emerge from our mind’s squall.

……..

When does the call come

It can happen anytime

But surely it comes

……..

See Matthew 9: 9-13