Jesus Walks

Jesus lives
in a tent
not a temple,
coated with blue
velvet sugar,
He dances within the freedom
of His own salvation
with the night and all
days bearing down
like sunrays on sin
on a white skinned back.
There are no raw olives, Arabic cutthroat nations.
There are no Judaism 101 classes or Passover times.
He has billions of ears
hanging from His head
dangling by seashores,
listening to incoming prayers
and loud voices.
Sometimes busy hour's drive Him
near crazy with buzzing sounds.
He walks near desert bushes
and hears wind tunnels.
Salvation is push forward
pine stinging nettles.
Here in His sacred voice
a whisper and
Pentecostal mind-
confused by hints of
Catholicism and prayers to Mary-
He heals himself in sacred
ponds tossing holy water
over himself-
touching nothing,
but humanity He recoils
and finishes his desert
walk somewhat estranged.

Or you could try the Spoken Version...

Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era. Today he is a poet, freelance writer, photographer who experiments with poetography (blending poetry with photography), and small business owner in Itasca, Illinois, who has been published in more than 750 small press magazines in 26 countries. He edits 7 poetry sites. Michael is the author of The Lost American: From Exile to Freedom (136 pages book), several chapbooks of poetry, including From Which Place the Morning Rises, Challenge of Night and Day, and Chicago Poems. He also has over 69 poetry videos on YouTube.

Find more by Michael Lee Johnson in the Author Index.

Comment on this story in the Aphelion Forum

Return to Aphelion's Index page.