Potter's Hand or the Potter's Field

Two men of great passion
Serve one Man of destiny,
Waiting to sit in the glow
Of His triumph.
But days pass and crowds turn
And each searches down in his
Heart, hoping only to
Find his great love.

One chooses wealth and its
Silver security.
Now is his chance to give
Fate a sharp nudge.
Either the master will rise
Up and conquer.
Or he will be rich
And the wait will be over.

One man stays faithful and
Stumbles along, with his head
In the clouds, but his feet
On the narrow.
"I'll never leave you!"
"I would die willingly!"
With no thought that destiny
Might call his bluff.

The dark night of torment
When visions come crashing down.
Each plays his part, and each
Fails beyond measure.
Denial, betrayal, dread kisses
And curses, and each man
Feels guilt's claws
Rip holes in his gut.

And one could not find his way
Back to forgiveness.
He throws down his money,
Then throws down his life.
His body hangs over a field
That will one day be
Filled with the death
Of those lonely, unloved.

But one found redemption
That bright Sunday morning.
When angels and women gave news
Of forgiveness.
His own name was spoken, the
Cold tomb was empty
And bitterness drowned
In a flood of pure Love.