Why Dost Thou Hide in Hooded Cloak

Why dost thou hide in hooded cloak?
Why dost thou stand in fear of me?
Was it not thy hand that cast this seed?
Is not thy harvest full and ripe?
Then will thou not now wield the scythe?
Canst thou not harvest cheerfully?

Why dost thou hide in hooded cloak?
Thy heart and love is hid within.
There was a time when souls were bare.
I dressed thy wounds and gave thee care.
Thou basked in warmth I gave to thee
And rested, sheltered from all storms.

Why dost thou stand in fear of me?
I am the man thou knew before.
The only difference that may be
Is now thou knows my soul is thine.
So if thou fears the sight of me
Fear not the man, but fear thy power.

Was it not thy hand that cast this seed?
From gentle smile and tender heart
One tiny spore found purchase here
Within a flaw in heart of stone
And like the acorn from the oak
Sent root to shatter stone for soil.

Is not thy harvest full and ripe?
Thou tended well thy miscast seed.
Thou watered it with maiden’s tears
Thou nurtured it with warmth and light
From brilliant sun-like heart and soul
And now thy harvest waits for thee.

Then will thou not now wield the scythe?
Come, claim thy seed’s vast progeny.
My heart yearns for thy threshing floor
Where thou will learn that all is fruit
That naught is chaff and all remains
To succor thee through winter’s cold.

Canst thou not harvest cheerfully?
This fruit is product of thy hands
And if thou finds the fruit too sweet
Blame not the soil that gave itself
But blame the sun, the rain, and hands
That tended orchards carelessly.

Why dost thou hide in hooded cloak?
Why dost thou stand in fear of me?
Was it not thy hand that cast this seed?
Is not thy harvest full and ripe?
Then will thou not now wield the scythe?
Canst thou not harvest cheerfully?