Ode to a Prototype

 One man’s tripe

Is another man’s prototype.

It’s all a matter of truth or hype.

The singing was joyful

Causing goose bumps to sipe,

But compared to the choirs of heaven

It was but a prototype.

All page turns came with a swipe,

But compared to the hearts that were turned,

They were but a prototype.

Paul Soulek’s playing was astonishing

He used every pipe

But compared to the music of heaven

It was but a prototype.

All the tears that were shed at Auschwitz

Came with a wipe

But compared to Christ’s tears for us,

They were, but a prototype.

The rainy weather led one to gripe,

The promised rainbow,

Compared to God’s promised redemption,

Was, but a prototype.

The clapping of the audience

Contrasted to Christ’s healing stripe

Compared to the clapping of angels before God

Was but a prototype.

The smelly attire of the running club

For some was a bit ripe

But compared to the stench of sin

Was but, a prototype.

Being roommates day after day

Led to an occasional snipe

But the forgiveness that followed

Was, as compared to God’s forgiveness,

But a prototype.

The homesickness was occasional,

But alleviated by Skype,

Which, compared to a prayer with God

Was, but a prototype.

And last, but not least,

Nancy et al. would say “yipe”,

Whenever that word was whispered…

“Prototype”.

-Anonymous