Читать книгу Self Help - Elizabeth Poreba - Страница 10

Fellow literalist, your doubt

about the loaves and fishes

always comforted me.

When you responded to His return

from death with your

over-the-top request to see more

and were rebuked—

Don’t you know me?—

you had my sympathy.

Maybe knowing Greek got you in.

God knows how you translated

what you could scarcely understand,

but God, we’re told, draws straight

with crooked lines, a relief to us both,

good with words, but at the wrong times.

Hear my prayer, Philip,

fifth of the twelve. Your gaze suggests

disquiet can be stilled.