Cornelis Cornelisz, van Haarlem 1627

The Good Samaritan
and Other Poems
Dinah Serritelli



Table of Contents



The Good Samaritan

The Good Shepherd

The Prodigal Son

Saved



The Good Samaritan




Cornelis Cornelisz, van Haarlem 1627

Such a pleasant day
The sun was shining
And the walking was good
I had money, food
And a spring in my step.
My journey
From Jerusalem to Jericho
Could be nothing…
But pleasant.

They came out of nowhere,
Robbers, violent men
Of greed and with no conscience.
They beat and bloodied me,
Leaving me, close to death.
They stripped me
Of my dignity,
Of my belongings
And my will to go on.

How easy it was for them,
I was vulnerable,
And even naïve
To be traveling alone,
I was no contest
For those who set upon me.
I never thought for one moment
That this could happen

I am going to die here
By the side of the road,
No chance for survival,
I feel myself… hovering
Above who I am,
It is a very strange sensation.
The pain has become bearable,
But it is not the pain
That will kill me,
The viciousness of the attack… will.

Maybe not!
I see help.
Yes! Yes indeed,
A priest is coming towards me,
He will help me,
This man…
Of holiness and compassion.
He will most certainly help me

. I don’t understand!
What is he doing?
He is crossing the road,
Averting his eyes
So as not to see me.
This man of faith,
Is it possible
He is naught
But a coward?

So long I have been here,
Here comes a Levite,
Surely! But surely
This man of holy cloth,
Will be helping me.
I wish I could call out,
But I can’t.
I feel I am close to dead.
I am dead… for he too
Has passed to the other side
To avoid me.

To them maybe
I am but a corpse
They do not wish to touch.
This brutality to my being
Has made me unclean,
And they wish not
To be involved.

Someone else is coming,
But I cannot expect help here
For he is a Samaritan,
A man not to be trusted.
A despicable, deceitful man
Not of the Jewish way.
Those of my own faith
Have deserted me…
I can expect no help here,
I am lost and certainly will die

. The pain has returned,
It is unbearable.
I appear to be back
Into my body
Over which I hovered.
The Samaritan is by my side,
He has tears of pity
In his eyes… for me.

He is kneeling beside my body,
Binding my wounds,
Pouring on my injuries
His precious olive oil and wine…
He is strong,
He lifts me gently
And places my battered being
Upon his own animal.
He takes me to an inn,
And pays the innkeeper
To take care of me.

This is a man
Whose race I have despised,
I have discriminated against
All my life.
Yet this is the man
Who saved me from death.
Who shed tears for me
… a stranger,
Who showed compassion
And Godliness.
Never have I experienced
Such caring for another,
In my life.

My upbringing and my beliefs
Have been clearly challenged,
For he who I thought
To be our people’s bitter enemy,
Turned out to be
A man of great faith
A humanitarian,
A moral and righteous man.
A man I would be proud
To call my best friend,
My neighbor.

I stand humbly
In the shadow
Of a real man...
The Samaritan.


Francesco Bassano 1575

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The Good Shepherd





We are in awe,
of The Good Shepherd,
and in the way we see Him.
How tender He is,
such gentleness and consideration,
totally devoted to His flock.

We look at the paintings
provided over many centuries,
by hundreds of artists
and smile…all different
yet with a familiar sameness.
A serene, caring man holding a lamb
protectively to His chest.
They please our hearts
these portraits of goodness,
and oft times we look no further,
nor question just what type
of man this Shepherd was.

Even the great cynics will
…and have, stood in front of a work of art,
portraying The Good Shepherd…
and valued the breathtaking beauty
of an artist’s rendition of a Legend
… and smiled.
The truth is
that this vision
we lock ourselves into,
is lacking well in our
understanding of just
who The Good Shepherd was.

He was without a doubt
a unique ‘one of a kind‘,
and very multi- faceted.
An enigma - in the full sense of the word,
a mass of contradictions.
He was a master and a servant,
to be served upon
and yet so willing to serve.
A teacher and a pupil
eager to teach,
yet equally as eager to learn.
Calm and yet quick to anger,
assured, self-confident.
Compassionate and caring,
kindness personified,
yet also uncertain and questioning.
Forceful, persuasive, dynamic
a fighter when the need arose
…a force to be reckoned with,
A martyr, courageous and unknown.
He was composed softness,
Yet under that shroud of kindness
and unselfishness was hidden
one independently tough man.

He was a hero…filled with
benevolence and humbleness,
a man of great character who touched
the common man…
because He was the common man.
He was, by far, much more
than The Good Shepherd
as portrayed and accepted
so enthusiastically by so many.

It does not even matter
if you are a believer or not,
You do not have to consider this man
…as the Son of God,
the truth is that history has proven
His existence…that He was real,
regardless of who
you might think He was.

I for one try hard to remember
He was and is far more
than an artist’s rendition
of a serene, caring man holding a lamb
protectively to His chest,
He is in fact more than I shall ever know
…or understand.

In my mind’s eye though
He is the Good Shepherd
…a Legend
…and artists delight,
and I stand with others
…in awe.



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The Prodigal Son




Murillo 1667/70

I took what was mine
To seek, search and find,
But...
The road traveled
Appears to have
Led to nowhere.
It has been fraught
With temptations
And addictions,
Despair and regrets.
A loveless, lonely road..
. Was ever a way so long?

Father, where are you,
Do you hear me, see my suffering,
Will you honor my apologies?
I am not worthy to be your child,
Let me be your servant instead.
I hang my head in shame
For I have squandered your wealth
, But far worse... your love.
I want to return home, Father.

Dear Father,
You are so constant
The truth is so simple
You will not have moved
Away from my home... your home.
The road I traveled
Was of my own choosing.
As you have not moved
Then you will still be...thankfully,
At my journey’s start.

I can and will turn around,
Wend my way back
And offer my services
That I might be once more
In the only place
That I knew the honesty
Of unconditional love.

I see you running,
Running to meet ME,
And I am over-flowing
With the knowledge,
That your arms
Are wide open
In readiness
To embrace me,
Your prodigal child.
How wonderfully you fill me
With Your Love
And Glory.

Thank you ... Father!.

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Saved





An innocent…lost
A seemingly small slip,
And a very nasty fall
The cliff
Is precipitous,
A sheer drop
To the bottom
If this brush
And small ledge
Should let me go.

I strayed,
The trail I followed
Was cobbled with temptation
Touched by defiance
And bordered in sin.
Things I never heard of
Or needed to know
Have tainted me
And I am lost
And unworthy.
I was enticed
…by an illusion,
Of greener grasses
But found naught
…but terror.

Stranded,
Hovering on the brink
…of death.
I wish I was deserving
Of being saved,
But I am just a small lamb
Within a fold
…of so many.
I am not praiseworthy
And I will not be missed.

The Lord is my Shepherd
…words unspoken,
Funny that fear
Laces you to a faith,
You strayed away from.

Hold on my child,
For I am love,
I sacrificed My Son
…for your forgiveness.
Look up and seek Him,
For He is your Rescuer,
Your Protector.
Know you are not one
…to be concealed
Behind barricades
Of your own making.
You are not unheard.
You are my beloved lamb,
My most precious child
And I love you.

I hear Him,
I look up
And I see
My forgiveness
...salvation
And I know
I am liberated.

The Son of God
…is my Shepherd
……my Savior
………my Hero.

I was lost,
I am found,
Saved by the generosity
Of a faithful, loving Father.
With gratitude,
And much humbleness
I have been freed…to live.

Glory!
Thank You!
Amen.

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