I am but a farmer, and you, brother, but a shepherd.
Yet your way disagrees with mine.
Simple though we both may be,
With pride is my reflection viewed.
Bring your fatted calf to God, but it will not suffice.
The fruit of my work will win God's grace to me instead.
But wait -- why is my sacrifice scorned and yours upheld?
Adam's cursed toil is not good enough?
Though I work until my bones ache, and you wander the earth
Stargazing and without a home,
God smiles upon you and shifts His eyes toward me.
The farmer is Adam's transgression's fruit.
Why does He fawn over you and welcome you to His arms?
In your absence, I would be accepted and loved.
As I deserve.
Here, let me show you my new hand-plow.
Hold it here, take it thusly...
Wait -- here. You give it a try.
Now, God...Where have you gone?
But here -I- am. See, here? My grain and fruit are pleasing.
My hard work and sweat and blood have yielded a sacrifice pleasing for you.
OH! Alas, for work and aching bones!
Now I wander the earth, star-gazing and without a home.
RED HANDS, RED EYES
Would that I were more able to Love.