The Watchman

A poetic remix of Ezekiel 33:1–20

Timothy Paul Jones
1 min readJun 2, 2021
Photo by Jason Wong on Unsplash

i stand here silent in a field

ravished by the fall

i see a hermit


clinging to the shortest straw

one minute til infinity

clocks are running down

i hear four horsemen


and still there’s no trumpet sound

and I can taste the blood moon’s light

hear the blind man’s cry

across the field far

too far

to carry the bread and wine

what if the only road i see

is a dead-end street?

still i hear heaven


tell the blind man how to see

oh God tell me what’s happening

my God tell me what is going on

why can’t the blind man see what I see?

there is a way out but only one.

still the watchtower stands

cold and empty

against the blazing sky

the horsemen are coming

closer, closer

no watchman sounds the cry

and I see the blood

drip from my hands

and I feel it spilling

warm over my feet

and I see that

the watchman has a name

and the watchman’s name is




Timothy Paul Jones

Professor. Pastor. Bestselling author of WHY SHOULD I TRUST THE BIBLE?, THE DA VINCI CODEBREAKER, and more.