After Sarah Klassen’s “Horizon”
It isn’t easy to write a poem about
Jesus. One might describe his lean legs, soiled toes
trampling smooth stones, riding a wave,
his cheek turning to mark the hand that slaps,
fingers of clay reaching to cleanse cloudy eyes,
his eyes that see through skin to stiff neck, congested
heart beneath.
Perhaps a poem would reveal
stripes where his tunic should have been,
tears from breaking the fall, clearing a path
through the swords, thieves, and rust.
But could a poem capture
the sizzle of fish on the rock,
the woo of wind by his open side,
the laugh in his throat as he calls,
Have you caught anything?
—Angeline Schellenberg
