Ampersand. D. S. Martin. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: D. S. Martin
Издательство: Ingram
Серия: Poiema Poetry Series
Жанр произведения: Религия: прочее
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781532647710
Скачать книгу
knowing what to do for when

      the Master had asked me about buying

      the crowd bread my faith was too little

      to say

      When we reclined at the table with Jesus

      he began to wash our feet Peter couldn’t

      see why he’d bother Thomas tripped

      on knowing the way & I asked him to show

      us the Father His responses were kind

      even though on the eve of his sorrows

      we were still so blind

      IV — Andrew Son of Jonah

      He’d always been my level-headed son

      & so I let him wander the wilderness

      after his bruised-reed prophet

      since he’d always return to mend the nets

      & chase another catch I’d thought

      Simon was the impetuous one

      but Andrew was as steady as a boat on sand

      When the Baptiser admitted he wasn’t the man

      he pointed out the Lamb of God

      & Andrew was caught

      He followed & brought Simon

      & some other local boys along too

      What was I supposed to do?

      I only had a fishing life

      & he had much more to offer than I’d got

      I only wish it had been when I was young

      that Messiah came not leaving me to fish

      & grow old with the same ache in my bones

      my two sons following the unknown

      leaving me with naught

      V — A Fisherman Called James

      The expanse above peers into the depths

      Here fishermen reap as though they’re netting

      featherless birds from the blue hills

      where cumulus sheep casually drift

      Land sky & sea all merge in Galilee

      They fish for musht grip heavy nets

      which shimmer & rip into their hands

      drip into water & into their cedar boat

      The sons of Zebedee float across the face of the deep

      lift sails high dip oars into the inverted sky

      James & his brother grew up on this shore

      familiar with the way squalls rip

      over the hills whip up mountainous waves

      & how the sea behaves

      He knew how bad this storm was

      darkness churning above & below

      surges tossing them as he Peter Andrew

      & John pulled at the tiny ship’s oars like slaves

      fearing the spill of water over the gunwale

      & so he was all the more startled

      when all ceased at his Lord’s Peace be still

      & yet on a similar night crossing after he got

      over the shock was more able to accept

      Christ’s walk across those shiny waves

      Often while his ears listened to his Master talk

      to the crowds his eyes would sail

      over the Judean hills that appeared to undulate

      like Galilee bearing boat-shaped clouds For years

      he’d watched bright seabirds easily float

      on a breeze that seemed as constant as water

      as solid as earth & so again he was better prepared

      when Jesus rose into the sky & disappeared from sight

      VI — James the Less

      In what way were you less? Shorter

      younger shyer than that son of thunder

      who shared your name? Not one to impress

      or be given fame or the one who came

      later to the band? Were you the same James

      whose father was Alphaeus the one whose mother

      was a second Mary beneath the cross

      the second mentioned among the women

      at the tomb? Would you confess

      to taking the blame to feeling the worst

      to seeing yourself whenever he would bless

      the least in the kingdom? Step up James

      claim your place Remember he said

      the last shall be first

      VII — Simon the Zealot

      When I was a child in my father’s home

      before I was presented at the temple

      in the days when Joazar the priest

      would have sold us all for peace

      Judas the Galilean prevented

      such subjection to the hated ways of Rome

      Some say he was a brigand when he raided

      a palace & armoury & carried away the gold

      After his death his insurrection faded

      At first I found another to follow from Galilee

      for I was bold to smother the Gentile breath

      we breathe He told us he came to bring a sword

      between brothers but it became a spiritual flame

      His authority out-burned the Pharisees

      for by his own name he cast out demons

      I took on a new zeal far more real

      with true connection to Israel’s consolation

      For this cause I’d even be sawn in two

      VIII — The Judas Tree

      Cercis Siliquastrum

      From within the alabaster skull of a man

      better off unborn

      throbs the pressure of regret

      The hand that dipped into the bags

      that dipped bread in the dish

      that reached for bloody stars

      now scatters to the ground a silver constellation

      for the burial of aliens

      & strangers

      Too late No return Too late

      The garden’s salty kiss of blood

      stains his lips ripe

      like Zechariah’s prophesy

      Irretrievable

      as the spikenard of devotion He grasps

      for consolation