The Road to Jericho, Texas

Here’s a new song I am trying out, based on an old story I heard in church.On the gravel road that led to Jericho, Texas, a big oil man was set upon by thieves.They swapped his Silverado for skull fracture – of his ruby ring and gold watch was relieved.The man lay hurt, red rivers on his forehead – he lifted up his head to hear or see.If anyone would stop to hear his pleading on that dusty, desert road of misery.Chorus:So, who is my compadre, mi amigo? Who will answer first to Heaven’s urgent plea?The one whose journey slowed, grace and tender mercy showedIs just who a loving child of God should beA sheriff passed and then a country preacher in a mad stampede to get where they were bound.For the start of court and church they were expected and sped right by the figure on the ground.The man lay broken in the scorching sunshine, a-praying for an angel or a friend.As the sun sank low toward the far horizon, the man expected this might be the end.A Mexican without ID was passing – a-running from the border and the law.A bloody bundle in his path trespassing. He flinched at all the damage that he saw.He gave the last drop from his own botijo and lifted the poor man onto his back.He lurched to-ward the town he’s been avoiding to get the man the medicine he lacked.He found a sala de emergencias and lay his load on a cot on a quiet floor.Left a hundred-peso note, said Dios te salve. Then slipped into the darkness out the door.Copyright © 2025 Jean Edouard Pouliot. All rights reserved. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit jeanpouliot.substack.com/subscribe