Theophany

He shone, like a star—here in my eyes
And light years away.

Light travels the fastest of all
Traveling things—traveling
With a Nikon camera around its neck.

In some places stars come out at night.
They shine.
People travel to see them.

The light pours through me, like water from a font,
And seeps through every pore of my skin,
I am pressed like grapes through cheesecloth. I seep into it.
I pour through the other side
Onto a bare, blank surface.
I have become, not wine, but sand.
I scatter.

A cloud covered him and the dazzling whiteness of his robe.

The cloud conceals, but not to conquer.
It obscures but for a time.

Time is folding in on itself.
I have not moved.
You have not moved.
The laundry is folded and put away.

It’s been eight minutes.
The light from the sun has reached you by now.
It is winter and
You would welcome the warmth of a supernova.

Clouds conceal but not to conquer.
They obscure but for a time.

Out of the cloud: the voice speaks.
Out of the fire: the voice speaks.
Out of the light: the voice speaks
And the dove descends.