On the road that escapes Jerusalem
and winds along the ridge to Emmaus
two disillusioned youths
dragged home their crucified dream.
They had smelled messiah in the air
and rose to that scarred and ancient hope
only to mourn what might have been.
And now a sudden stranger falls upon their loss
with excited words about mustard seeds
and surprises hidden at the heart of death
and that evil must be kissed upon the lips
and that every scream is redeemed for it echoes
in the ear of God and do you not understand
what died upon the cross was fear.
They protested their right to despair but he said,
“My Father’s laughter fills the silence of the tomb.”
Because they did not understand they offered him food.
And in the breaking of the bread
they knew the imposter for who he was –
the arsonist of the heart.
John Shea, The Hour of the Unexpected, pp. 48-49.
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