Were the first disciples skipping rocks
when Jesus came calling?
Instead of immediately saying follow me,
did he hold his tongue, the better part of valor?
Did he hear be still and know from his Father who art in heaven,
urging the only begotten's blood to rise at the edge of innocence...
to witness a side-armed throw and one-footed release
and dream of a cross too-handed to carry;
to revel as shore rocks cry out three, four, five times before
it is finished,
and feel the point of a soldier's spear;
to hear unburdened men laughing like boys, framed by a beautiful dusk,
and wish a veil torn and darkness at noon;
to see what he is not here would mean for all men
and then, and only then, after seeing hope at a stone's throw,
suffer the little children to come?
[poetry-prompt image provided by Christine at abbeyofthearts.com]