PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

[after Luke 24]

I saw the Lord . . . Him . . . Jesus . . . resurrected.

There in the upper room:  right through the door

He came.  This is no sweet tale we confected,

nor clever poetry of metaphor.

He told us that this miracle is real,

and not some mere hoax or nasty deceit.

Then He invited us, trembling, to feel

His flesh and bones, to prove Him not a ghost.

I staggered, dizzy, and held to a post

until my legs and feet felt far more ready.

I thought:  Men like we are cannot be ready

to speak of this---the doomed world's fondest wish.

To prove this new reality some more,

He asked if He could have something to eat:

we had a honey comb and, on a dish

(prepared like in the old days) a broiled fish.

No more should mankind dread that final breath;

no more the last word falls, silenced, to death.

God's promise is fulfilled:  life has a cause

for which it need not stoop to fear's last pause.

Starward

[jlc]