After Pentecost

I gaped when he healed
a man born blind,

laughed at adversaries struck dumb
by his clever, well-chosen words,

wept when he was spat on and beaten
and all I did was deny, deny, deny.

I was not worthy to fasten his shoe,
to do more than listen awestruck,

but when God calls from shore,
you jump out of the boat and go.

I was pricked by splintered light
like white flame.

I fluttered as one who hears
a long-gone friend’s foot on the step.

At the temple, I fastened eyes
on a broken man begging mercy,

took him by the hand, and leapt again
toward the call.

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