For Want of a Single Word

My Dear Friend,

***

I remember with whelming gratitude

the kindness you tendered

nursing me back to health

those few years past

while others remained distant

fearing plagues unobserved.

***

And then, refusing payment?

I am forever in your debt.

***

But now I fear

I must ask of you again

for I can think of no other

able or willing to help.

***

I remember

when your friends first arrived

we could but marvel.

We were the evanescent

barely seen & quickly forgotten.

***

But they saw

& met us where we were

in the fields

catching fish

fetching water

baking bread

cleaning house

washing river

both bodies & clothes.

***

And they spoke

not just to us

or at us

but with us…

***

…& they became our friends as well.

***

They told us stories

so wild & incredible

impossible to believe

had they not been so passionate

or earnest

or staked their lives so completely on their verity.

***

We gathered

whenever we could

to listen & tell

each week at the first of it

we shared a feast

as they spoke of a teacher,

sublimely human

who performed wonders

& brought near

that which had always seemed distant

making that which seemed to us oblivious

ubiquitous.

***

And then they were gone

cast out by the powers that be

innocent

scapegoats.

***

And once again we were alone.

***

That wasn’t true.

we were together

& continued to gather

repeating the stories as best we could

continuing to see

& to hear

& to care for one another.

***

They put me in charge

of those most likely

to be missed

abandoned & forgotten.

They said I had a gift

& so it was

I loved to hear

stories rarely spoken

never heard

as I shared with them

both sustenance & shelter

from those who had appointed me.

***

I met a friend

a good friend

a beloved friend

with whom I began a life

who joined me on my rounds

& became adored

both by me

& by our wards.

***

And then they returned

our friends & yours

from distant lands

restored by new counsel

but with naught of what they had gained before.

***

There were quarrels

over who should lead

disagreements

over me & my beloved

who shared my gender.

They had more tales to tell

more tales of the teacher

so sublimely human

but would not one word utter

‘til we were parted

& sworn to remain so.

***

My heart was broken.

***

My helpmate’s, too.

***

A letter was sent

to the one who first sent them

asking of many things

but most strongly of we.

***

And we waited…

***

bated breath…

***

dizzy with despair…

***

‘til an answer came.

***

We gathered as one

though more as two

to hear as the emissary

read.

***

His opening friendly

I hoped on his words

“Grace & peace”

a word of thanksgiving

good news

he will come

he himself soon.

***

‘til his words turned to us

words cruel & hard

wrath of God

wickedness

ungodliness

futile & senseless

foolish

idolatrous

a lie

degrading

unnatural & shameless

debased

covetous

deceitful

insolent & haughty

faithless

heartless

ruthless

deserving of death

abomination….

***

My heart & my eyes

sank to the ground

as at “Therefore…,” he arrived

I awaited the blades’ fall.

***

But it didn’t…

as rather

the words turned toward them

continuing,

“…you’ve no excuse when you judge….”

***

I looked up

full of hope

“Do not judge…,”

is the word

sent from the one who sent you.

But their heads were yet full

of what words came before

nodding their heads,

“Told you so.”

***

“Did you not hear?”

my voice plead disbelief,

“Do not judge

that is the word!

You can’t hold to the words

that precede the ‘Therefore’

when the answer that follows

nonconcurs!”

***

But their judgement was final

decisions made swift

as heads from my allies

ceded & fell

***

We were expelled...

***

& once more made...

***

evanescent.

***

This favor I ask

as I’m lonely & lost

though touched with my lover’s embrace

though some friends still come

(nought but those filled with grace)

holding my heart, gently healing my soul

I still hunger to hear

something more.

***

Please tell us the stories

they now would withhold

of the teacher, the human sublime.

For with want of one word

we’re not welcome to hear

when they gather…,

***

...my heart fails...

***

How can I ask

you this task

must I ask

can you write them

we’ll read them

we’ll treasure

every story you know

every lesson once told

of your teacher, this human sublime.

***

Your humblest of servants,

Theophilus