His humility started with his feet
A full time reflexologist on call
Pedicured. Manicured clothed with
silk stocking in white
Slipped lovingly into the soft skin of the lamb
On the background played melodies
"Blessed are the feet of the saints"
While his toes, all ten of them, seem excited
His polished nails beamed a smile
Lighting up the ground around
As unto a lamp that lighted the paths
The cursed world called it the
"Foot Fetish"
But the believers
Knew the truth involved
Kneeling down they tithed with fear
Blessings flowing
Wads of valuable papers piling
Smiles on the face
Smiles on the feet
His toes squeaked
His shoes screeched
He merely translated those sounds
And his lips uttered.
Millions fell at his feet
Pedicured nails and scraped dead skins
A whole new industry it birthed
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In faith they drank
Morning, afternoon and night
Humili - Tea.
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