than where you’re from
from the wrong side of the tracks the under side
of a stone? Philip knew you well enough
to find you studying alone under your fig tree
knew well enough you weren’t mocking prophets
or balking at his mind so answered
your wonder Come & see
I get you Bartholomew No one could fool
you No naked emperors could pull
invisible wool over your eyes & so it’s all the better
that you were there to watch angels
up & down Jacob’s ladder that you saw
the Christ ascending to the skies
III — Philip of Bethsaida
When my friend questioned me about Jesus
I’d said Come & see but now realize
that eyes open gradually
that I’d had to start with cloudy shapes
of men like trees walking like
that man from my hometown peering
through the spittle
When the Greeks said We want to see Jesus
I grabbed Andrew fearing my brittle
thread of insight would snap
before knowing what to do for when
the Master had asked me about buying
the crowd bread my faith was too little
to say
When we reclined at the table with Jesus
he began to wash our feet Peter couldn’t
see why he’d bother Thomas tripped
on knowing the way & I asked him to show
us the Father His responses were kind
even though on the eve of his sorrows
we were still so blind
IV — Andrew Son of Jonah
He’d always been my level-headed son
& so I let him wander the wilderness
after his bruised-reed prophet
since he’d always return to mend the nets
& chase another catch I’d thought
Simon was the impetuous one
but Andrew was as steady as a boat on sand
When the Baptiser admitted he wasn’t the man
he pointed out the Lamb of God
& Andrew was caught
He followed & brought Simon
& some other local boys along too
What was I supposed to do?
I only had a fishing life
& he had much more to offer than I’d got
I only wish it had been when I was young
that Messiah came not leaving me to fish
& grow old with the same ache in my bones
my two sons following the unknown
leaving me with naught
V — A Fisherman Called James
The expanse above peers into the depths
Here fishermen reap as though they’re netting
featherless birds from the blue hills
where cumulus sheep casually drift
Land sky & sea all merge in Galilee
They fish for musht grip heavy nets
which shimmer & rip into their hands
drip into water & into their cedar boat
The sons of Zebedee float across the face of the deep
lift sails high dip oars into the inverted sky
James & his brother grew up on this shore
familiar with the way squalls rip
over the hills whip up mountainous waves
& how the sea behaves
He knew how bad this storm was
darkness churning above & below
surges tossing them as he Peter Andrew
& John pulled at the tiny ship’s oars like slaves
fearing the spill of water over the gunwale
& so he was all the more startled
when all ceased at his Lord’s Peace be still
& yet on a similar night crossing after he got
over the shock was more able to accept
Christ’s walk across those shiny waves
Often while his ears listened to his Master talk
to the crowds his eyes would sail
over the Judean hills that appeared to undulate
like Galilee bearing boat-shaped clouds For years
he’d watched bright seabirds easily float
on a breeze that seemed as constant as water
as solid as earth & so again he was better prepared
when Jesus rose into the sky & disappeared from sight
VI — James the Less
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