The Unanticipated Guest

Last night I saw Jesus

in the basilica 

a face familiar but unlike 

what art or statues show.

Yet clear as day 

a strong nose, parted lips,

facial hair, eyes not clearly

closed. 

I never thought I could be

sure that holy forms appear 

on walls or cloth. 

And this was not from drugs 

or drink or mental states 

I hope. 

Did he sense my heart still

running now since from 

the womb? 

He was at my feet, I feared 

to step 

on him, a test some faithful 

passed or failed. 

But he is here within the stone 

reminding me how he placed

divinity aside 

so we might walk on him 

as we trample those we know. 

Was I host 

or guest; which of us welcomed 

or were receiving hospitality? 

I exchanged 

short poems with a friend. 

One said: I am agnostic 

or am I an agnostic? 

I am one of these. I said: 

I am agnostic, largely when 

I think about 

agnosticism. The rest is silence. 

Even when I stared in darkness 

he remains. 

At my feet he is still here 

as if he had found my soul 

and taken root.

---

Royal Rhodes retired after nearly forty years of teaching courses on global religions. His poems have appeared in literary journals, online and in print, in the U.S., the U.K., Canada, Singapore, and India. His poetry and art collaborations have been published in hand-crafted booklets with the artists of The Catbird [on the Yadkin] Press. He lives now in a small village in the heart of Ohio, and enjoys reading poetry and mystery novels.