The Shaken Jar #1693

The Shaken Jar In ancient lands where shadows blend, A story told where lives did bend, Where Pontius Pilate, with iron hand, Feared the tumult of this holy land. The Jewish force, a fierce array, Resisting Rome’s oppressive sway, And in their midst, a man divine, Whose path would soon to cross the line. Jesus of Nazareth, serene and pure, With words of love, he would allure, A threat perceived by Rome’s own might, A spark to kindle endless night. Herod and Pilate, in silent dread, Feared a rebellion led by the dead, John's followers, and Jesus' too, Could rise against the Roman hue. Thus, a plan in shadowed halls, To silence one who often calls, For peace, for love, for hearts to mend, A plan to bring his end, they penned. But as they shook the jar of fate, Unleashing chaos, brewing hate, The ants within began to fight, Blinded by their righteous might. Blacks against reds, they clashed and bled, Innocent lives were torn and shed, Yet, none could see the hand that jarred, The force that led their hearts to hard. In battles fought on land and mind, We often leave the truth behind, Men against women, young against old, Faith against science, hearts turned cold. Before the clash, the fire’s spark, Before we bite with teeth so stark, Let’s pause and ask, with mind ajar, Who was it that did shake the jar? For in this world of endless strife, Where conflict cuts like sharpened knife, The real enemy, unseen and sly, Is often the hand that shook the sky. So let us seek with wisdom clear, To find the truth and hold it dear, For unity can break the snare, And lead us to a world more fair. -Steven G. Lee (June 8, 2024)