Non-Lament

He appeared to me last

not saving the best

but saving the worst

he appeared to me last.

To meet him wasn’t

sufficient

to blind me was

necessary

He blinded me

so I could see,

I could not see

before the blindness.

My sight was imperfect.

Once you have seen,

all sight is imperfect.

Photograph by George Hodan via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

The five hundred saw him

The five hundred saw him

after, whether all at once

or singly or in groups

does not concern us here,

only that five hundred

in a span of time, a span

of forty days, translated

from bystanders to witnesses

He spoke, they listened

he preached, they heeded

he talked, they received

he spoke, they stood

they took their stand

they believed

they held firm

they were taught

they spoke

others listened

Photograph by Lilla Frerichs via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

Timothy's observation

I walked with him

across the stadia

the roads built

by Roman engineers

a marvel, or marvels,

particularly because

the dust was limited

except when the wind

blew from the mountains

blew from across the plains

he never complained

when the dust blew

he only complained

when he shook the dust

from his feet, the dust

of unbelief.