The face of dreams

First published in The Word, April 2006

He looked in the face of Jesus
stared into the eyes of God
walked on the rock of ages
where a million feet have trod.
Held the hands of the dying
listened to the lying
tried to avoid the sages
’cause they’ve never understood.
Wondered why the living
are never so forgiving
as when they’ve done the sinning
on the way to find their God.
A prophet in his homeland
a rebel saddled with a cause
a dancer without timing
a song without applause.
Looking at the high and mighty
who stand so fine and tall
on his knees at least nightly
hoping for a quick downfall.
Then in the fog and frost
he saw the Holy Ghost,
was he found or was he lost,
as the kneelers drank the host?
I refilled the empty glasses
and alter boys made passes
kissing rosaries and pansies
as priests counted up the cost.