I've enjoyed posting a poem on Tuesdays, so I think I'll continue for awhile. In the tradition of my Wednesday meditations, with these poems, I'll think about the liturgical season we inhabit and the readings for the upcoming Sunday.
I got the inspiration for this poem from this post on Jan Richardson's blog. The title is hers. This poem appears here for the first time.
Into the Wound
Thomas approached his Savior’s bloodied side,
Everything for which he longed, yet so feared.
He felt the warm flesh and looked deep inside.
The vision left him changed and scarred and seared.
He saw a series of worlds in that wound.
He saw a future that could be so fine.
He saw a world of absence, so ill tuned.
He saw a table set with bread and wine.
He saw the start of all the universe
And staggered back, but Christ kept him steady.
“Wash your hands,” Christ said, his voice almost tense.
Christ knew the dangers for those unready.
Legend says Thomas walked to India;
What dream prompted him, we always wonder.
But you, too, could hike to outer Asia,
If you had the same vision to ponder.
feeling the feelings…
3 months ago