The Poem

Our master alone on the hill at night
Overlooking Jerusalem city of lights;
He sought the comfort and quiet at hand
Praying to his Father in the promised land.

While he was praying, a figure he saw
Nicodemus the scribe was standing in awe.
A question was posed from him to his brethren
Please tell me, Lord, how do I get to Heaven?

Jesus looked at him with shock on his face
Is this the reason you sought out this place?
To ask a question that all Scribes below,
The answer, my friend, you should already know.

The question you ask is a simple one friend;
All that is needed is to be born again.
Be born again? Lord, how can that be?
My mother is dead {1}in the tomb is she.

Poor Nicodemus did not understand
He stood there alone with his heart in his hand.
I don't comprehend what you mean by your words
My mind is baffled and I am disturbed.

Again Jesus spoke to this man on the hill
What is it you don't understand even still?
You know the scriptures as you are a scribe
The words that you learned from your mothers own tribe!

Do you not know when it's red in the morning
That sailors at sea must always take warning?
And when in the evening the sun has turned red
You can now safely go to your bed?

Oh, Nicodemus, what must I do
To get you to understand words that are few?
Words that are few and easily grasp
Nicodemus, Nicodemus, why do you ask?

Nicodemus, left Jesus alone on the hill
Overlooking Jerusalem the city now still;
As his heart ached he walked off in pain
Still not understanding, be Born Again.

Russell R Cranmer Jr. 

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