Swallowing Pride

 

Mistake number one

He sent someone to me,

Mistake number two

It was a maid; that was funny.

Mistake number three

You wouldn’t believe,

It was the awful instruction

That I received.

Me, second to the king only

Can you dig this?

Dip in Jordan?

There must be something I missed.

And that wasn’t all

There was mistake number four:

Dip not one time

But six times more.

Back home in Damascus

We had Abana and Pharpar,

Compared to the River Jordan

These were cleaner by far.

I was so angry

That I just turned away,

I had come with hope

But it wasn’t my day.

I had heard about Elisha

A very great man indeed,

I had been convinced

That he could meet my need.

Surely if he had come out

And stood before me

I was definitely sure

He could heal my malady.

How dare he

Insult the second in command,

I can tell you now

That was not my plan.

  

That was it for me

Dip in Jordan?  Not a chance,

A dip in dirty Jordan

Couldn’t my skin enhance.

Just then my servants spoke

It was what they said,

Their words made sense

By them I was led.

One dip in dirty Jordan

But there was no change,

Two dips, three and then four

My skin still looked strange.

Down a fifth time

My skin looked no different,

If only you knew

How much this folly I resent.

I paused before the sixth

Then I took the dive,

My skin was still the same

My healing had not arrived.

Well I had dipped sixth times

Seven?  Why refuse?

I was now dirty all over

There was nothing to lose.

So down again I plunged

For dip number seven

And when I came up

That was like heaven.

I had never seen

Anyone’s skin so clean,

You could just imagine

With delight I screamed.

My pride was messier

Than the Jordan I’m sure

But for such an outcome

I could dip fifty times more.

Stewart Russell © May 2018