Saturday, October 3, 2015

I came across Christ

I came across Christ

I came across Christ in a recurring dream
of descent, vivacity and evanescence;

stripped of scriptural restraints;
uplifted in outstretched, agonized triumph.

In spiritual flight, I came across Christ,
double-crossed the stone sepulcher;

came across death, across Truth
in a walkabout that led to Jesus in India,

thousands of years from the sophistry,
the accumulated errors, the calcified ruins.

I came across Christ, the palpable
flesh and blood, hanged from a cross

of the Carpenter's own making,
in His own chest and mine;

His silent returning, His timely, masterful,
merciful descent, the ethereal made extant

in the milieu of our latest,
chronic human lunacy and despair.

O child of God, follow the ancient thread that runs
from Zoroaster's kushti to the sadra of Meher.


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