I sold my possessions, even the colorful pencils.
I gave all my money to the dull. I gave my poverty
to the preseident. I became a child again, naked
and relatively innocent. I let the president have my guilt.
I found a virgin and asked her to be my mother.
She held me very sweetly.
I watched father build beautiful shapes with wood.
He too had a gentle way.
I made conversation in holy places with the chosen.
Their theater was grim.
I suggested they cheer up. Many repented,
albeit elaborately.
I floated the wide river on a raft.
I set Jim free.
I revised every word.
One morning, very early, I was taken by brutes and beaten.
I was nailed to a cross so sturdy I thought
father himself might have shaped it.
I gestured for a cool drink and was mocked.
I took on the sins of the world and regretted my extravagance.
I gave up and died. I descended into hell
and spoke briefly with the president.
I rose again, bloodless and feeling pretty good.
I forgave everything.
Cairns, Scott. "The Translation of Raimundo Luz: My Imitation" Upholding Mystery: An Anthology of Contemporary Christian Poetry. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. 157.
