Cloud Gazing, Earth-Bound

A poem for Ascension Day

He is looking up,
and I’m trying to catch his eye.
Lord, says I, is it now the time?
Will you set us free today?
Will you restore the kingdom?
You know—for this, we’ve prayed.

He’s praying. I sigh. I pray too.
Beyond, I see the soldiers’ helmets
gleaming, too bright, too dark,
weaving among the conquered
in the sand-choked towns
as serpents twine through reeds.

You will receive power, says my king—
and I’m desperate for it already—
power to go everywhere, to speak,
to preach, to heal in my name.
Vipers will bite you, and you’ll laugh.

You’ll die, even so, Cephas, for me.
Like me.
We’ve talked about this.

I guess—I’d hoped—it was metaphorical.
I say nothing for once, my words knocked
to the dust. I feel like I’ve been punched
in the gut by a centurion.

Then he smiles, and I could weep.

I’ll be with you always, to the very end,
says the death-treading snake-stomper.

And he leaves.

I strain to see him amid the clouds,
my vision blurring in the too-bright,
too-dark sky. 

Two strangers arrive.
They bid me to live, and to die.

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