A Harvester's Tale
Josef Rutz
They walk the Earth, do Hell and Heaven—They walk our very streets.
Hell named Glemokk and Heaven’s Angel
One night, so chanced to meet.
If Angel had a name, he kept it
Naming only grace within.
The demon invented himself a name—
Glemokk, the sound of sin.
Angel was a shorter fellow,
With a coat of tattered brown.
Glemokk instead was tall and fair,
‘Bout his frame, a silver gown.
Angel raised a roughened hand
To greet his fellow ghost.
On Glemokk’s hand sparkled rings of kings
As he hailed his heavenly host.
“Hello, old friend, do fare thee well?”
Asked Glemokk, in tongue so sweet,
“For your clothes are stained and fingers coarse,
As a farmhand shearing wheat.”
“Working in my Father’s field,” said Angel
“Is tough and brings much toil.
But the sweetest fruits I’ve yet to taste
Are those planted in His soil.”
Glemokk shook his head in grief
And cried at tragic Angel’s story.
“Angel!” he said, “I’d make you happy
If you but laid your spade before me.”
Angel smiled sadly down,
For Glemokk couldn’t understand.
He said, “The only joy there is that lasts
is in tilling the good Lord’s lands.”
They walked a pace, abreast in silence
‘Till at length a man drew near.
“What approaches?” asked the demon.
Angel answered, “The reason I am here.”
The man eyed warily both angel and devil
Suspicious of both his guests.
It seemed strange company for one to keep
When the sun had sunken west.
“Who be ye there?” he asked in fright,
“And your mission, do plainly tell!”
Said they, “We are but servants, child,
One of Heaven, and one of Hell.”
“What do spirits want with me?”
The man cried in despair.
“We wish only to share the truth with ye,”
Answered the phantom pair.
“What truth have you?” the man asked thus.
“Truth from the world beyond?
Answers to the questions all men fear
About what happens when death has dawned?”
“Nay,” said Angel, “about that world
I cannot to you unveil.
You will learn it’s secrets when native there,
If your crop yield does not fail.”
The man bowed low and asked our Angel,
“But of which harvest do you speak?
For I have no fields to sow or plow,
And my back is frail and weak.”
Angel said, “The good King above
Hath given lands that you have leased.
That you might bear them fruitful
And so one day, join Him in His feast.”
The man then asked his Angel friend,
“Is that then what I must do?”
Glemokk whispered softly in reply,
“Child, the choice is up to you.”
“Is there then another path?”
Pled the desperate man,
“Do share with me, O Lordly Ghost
The secrets of your plan.”
“I too was once a lowly field hand,”
The demon prince explained.
“But I am now a Lord myself,
And have myself the whole world gained.”
“Then, sire, you have indeed found joy?”
The man timidly implored.
“What need have I for joy,” asked Glemokk
“When the world offers so much more?”
And then burst forth from Demon’s robes
Colored gems and heaps of gold.
He said to the man, “If you but follow me,
Your wealth shall be ten thousandfold!”
Angel said then, “What Glemokk offers
Will bring you pride and pleasure.”
And setting his spade before the man, said,
“But this will bring true treasure.”
Glemokk and Angel departed then,
Leaving the man his choice to make.
But if the spirits had offered you their gifts,
Which one would you take?
Would you height the summits of this world
And claim your fame above her?
Or fall to your knees and dig the dirt
And do it for another?