visions of jesus in yoga

March 2017 (supposed to be satirical!!! not sentimental)

He was in a white robe,

fully-bearded, on lily pads

floating above piano keys,

holding my hand,

and I was a child.

 

He was in blue jeans,

fully-bearded, on lily pads

floating above piano keys.

His beard dematerialized.

I could see his hazelnut-brown skin.

He was grinning, but there was sadness.

 

He was gone,

and I was still a child—

I floated on the lily pads

above the piano keys,

but now I realized I could be alone

because I wasn’t. I felt the wind, and I could see it.

 

I was present,

my body stale and gravitated

to the criss-cross tiles. I was nothing,

and I saw a body lying stale and stuck to criss-cross tiles.

 

He was back—

and he was the Middle-eastern man in front of me.

Skinny, sighing, separate.

Published by celinamcmanus

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