One sabboth at Bethesda (John: 5)
There he was crippled
like us
waiting
year after year,
watching for some stirring of the waters,
and someone to help him
outcompete us all.
And when finally that angel did arrive,
poolside, one morning early,
to find him waiting still
in the shade of these merciless porticos,
to quiz him, in a glance,
on his loss, his pain, his will,
the ocean herself could not constrain him,
as he walked his way back,
rejoicing,
through the ancient gate.
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