Rebirth. —CC

Alphabet City

Barnabas and Paul have been on the road,
Iconium,  Perga to Antioch,
where they ran into strong opposition,
from the Jewish elders and the Elite.

I make joyful noises throughout the day,
the Gentiles appear to understand us.
I dab my own tears with wool from the lamb,
my soul bleached white from the blood of the blessed.

John’s time’s spent at the Tiberias Sea,
after I told him about my dream there:
the surf rolling in, my mind drifting out,
to future days, to ages not yet come.

He has visions there, stronger than before.
Thousands of people, all races and tongues,
beyond the tribulation, the end days,
before the throne, humbled and united.

I miss my friend; it’s difficult for me.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
There’s deeper meaning now to everything.
How lonely it must be to not believe.

© Carlos Chagall, April 2013

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