the men who whipped him along the way? Where
are the soldiers who divided his clothing among
doing here? Should I look
for him elsewhere?
Man Born Blind
We are all born of light.
Before I washed the mud
Formed with his saliva off my eyes
In the pool of Siloam, there were glimmers
Like rose petals on shiny black stone,
Temple-bound sandals stirring desert yellow,
Mists of green if I sensed a pit nearby.
When I smelled the coming rain
Blue hands claimed the dark.
Lights shape fuller than touch, sunder
Slants of seeing to rapture: illumination
Bending with the jar’s belly, shimmering
Warmth from the cup’s eddies, sheen
Of bones on papyrus, magnifying revelations.
As if it weren’t enough, smells grew wings,
Singing like cherubs, one note above colors.
They who knew I wasn’t born with
The gift of sight shared their amazement –
Cakes of pressed figs and raisin, lamb meat
Roasted with bitter herbs, unleavened bread.
I couldn’t miss it anymore: home-nurtured
Radiance, love’s reflections, care thicker
Than water, glaring everywhere I looked,
Sending me back to starless corners.
After the crucifixion they said he lives
In a believer’s heart, but this is how
Need folds night’s veil of distance:
Eye contact, lamp of touch.
Previously published in Windhover Journal of Christian Literature (print).
A previous contributor of Spirit Fire Review, Jonel Abellanosa lives in Cebu City, the Philippines. His poetry has appeared in numerous journals, including New Verse News, That Literary Review, Rattle, McNeese Review and Star*Line, and been nominated for the Pushcart, Best of the Net and Dwarf Stars awards. His published collections include “Meditations” (Alien Buddha Press,) “Songs from My Mind’s Tree” and “Multiverse” (Clare Songbirds Publishing House), and “50 Acrostic Poems,” (Cyberwit, India). His first speculative poetry collection, "Pan's
Saxophone,” is forthcoming from Weasel Press.