Seán Walsh: Treasures

TREASURES

I went for nothing, never knew hunger,

‘had to go without…

‘Old now, the end soon in sight.

All these riches, all this wealth…

Everywhere I look in this mansion,

riches aplenty, precious gifts, heirlooms,

presses and drawers filled to o’erflowing.

Too old now to enjoy even a little

 – if anything – of all that…

Too frail to travel… too weak for

fine wine, rich food…

And after my burial they’ll converge here:

family, relatives, so called friends…

What to do with so much?

I’ll take this and you can have that,

a gift for him, a present for her.

The cavil over property,

rich earth, fallow soil…

Donations to good causes.

Not forgetting the Rabbis

 who would pray for me,

ostentatiously.

‘Leftovers for the impoverished…

I was a rich young man the day

I sought him out. ‘Curious…

‘Had heard so much… all good.

And when I elbowed my way forward –

“Master, all these I have kept

from my earliest years” –

he looked at me, intently:

“One thing remains… Go sell what you have

and give to the poor and come, follow me…”

I froze… looked down, crestfallen…

How could I?!

Sell all? All my wealth?

And give to the unwashed?

The thankless urchins who litter

our towns and villages?!

And then what? Back here? Seek him out?

Join his company of fishermen?

Me in a threadbare robe, worsted cloak?

Break bread with them at sun up, sundown?

Sleep where… how?

And all to follow a Galilean

whom some had begun to call

quite mad!

No! No! Never! I would not!

Just could not!…

I turned and began to move away,

head down, shoulders weighed,

heavy footed…

Still seeing his eyes: dark,

luminous, intent on mine…

Man! Old man! Fool! Oh, you fool!

The day you chose Earth,

declined treasure in Heaven…

His last words as he watched me go

got back to me later:

Easier for a camel to pass

through the eye of a needle…