my hour (John 12:20-33)

i wish to see
         Jesus
   in the panhandler
   on the street:
             but
      the stained, tattered clothes,
         the unkempt hair,
            the acridness clustered
            around him
   cloud my eyes;

i wish to hear
         Jesus
   in the politicians
      whose decisions i cannot
             support,
   in the evangelist
      mouthing platitudes to the
             pain-full,
   in the talk-show callers
       spewing hateful bile,
                  but all these words
   clog my ears;

i wish to meet
         Jesus
   in the tattoed skateboarder
            riding the rails
            down at the school,
   in the hip-hopper
            jamming at the
            bus stop,
   in the goths
            hanging outside the
            arcade,
                   but too quickly
               i cross the street
               searching for my
                       twins.

      Jesus,
   why would you wish
            to see
               to hear
            to meet
me?

(c) Thom M. Shuman