Jesus

I've heard about him
in a hundred forms...
from new-age liberalism
to heavy-handed fire and brimstone
to his own poetry

I've believed,
not believed,
even reviled and mocked him

As for many educated people,
it's no longer possible for me
to believe in heaven
or in all-mighty Jehova in the sky
(people die when they die)

But, to my psyche anyway,
there is still inspiration
in the poetic parables,
in the mighty healer and sage,
in ancient tradition alive
in this anarchic age

And then the pendulum swings again,
and I snarl at his statue
snarl at the well-dressed and wealthy children
(who would label me a "simpleton")
mindlessly walking out of church
in this age of reason and science
centuries after the battles
of Galilleo, Darwin, and Voltaire

But the statue looks at me
with a gaze noble and gentle
and says:
"Come to me, my child:
have some bread, fish, and forgiveness"