At The Palace Of Abgarus V, In Edessa

[Abgarus, loquitor]

 

That which afflicts me, I shall not resent;

because the cure---I say---is imminent:

a cure, in some form, is soon to arrive,

and will restore me and cause me to thrive.

My task, now, is:  wait for delivery;

nor give into doubt's fearful perfidy.

Jesus has not rejected my request:

He did not refuse, but told me to wait.

In His timing, neither "early" nor "late"

describes His Will, by which I will be blessed.

To question that is trite and frivolous.

What did you say?---someone has asked for me?---

a traveler who hails from Galilee?

He told you that his name is Thaddeus?

 

Starward 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I first wrote a poem about Abgar in the late Autumn of 1975, based upon the account of his faith recorded by Eusebius of Caesarea in his book, Historia Ecclesiastica (on which I wrote my senior thesis to obtain my BA in History).

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