Jesus in the suburb

There’s a strange man
standing outside at the garden gate
on the other side of the mailbox
and he is dressed in a uniform
and looks somewhat familiar
but I cannot place him

and funny enough
the dogs are quiet
and to peaceful to my fancy
as if they
know him from somewhere

and I wonder what a traffic cop
is doing outside at the garden gate
and I am half irritated
when I open the front door,

but his uniform is somewhat strange
and looks like a flying suit
that a pilot would wear.

I wonder what he wants
and without talking he asks
do you know me?

There’s a bright like
shining like the sun
out of his loving eyes
and His hands has the marks
of old wounds
that has healed

and I wonder what He is doing
at the door of a sinful fool like me
and I open the gate wide
and He walks in.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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