Poem: “On Belief in the Physical Resurrection of Jesus” by Denise Levertov

 It is for all 

“literalists of the imagination,” 

poets or not, 

that miracle 

is possible, 

possible and essential.

Are some intricate minds 

nourished 

on concept, 

as epiphytes flourish 

high in the canopy?

Can they 

subsist on the light, 

on the half of 

metaphor that’s not 

grounded in dust, grit, 

heavy, 

carnal clay?

Do signs contain and utter, 

for them 

all the reality 

that they need? Resurrection, for them, 

an internal power, but not 

a matter of flesh?

For the others, 

of whom I am one, 

miracles (ultimate need, bread 

of life) are miracles just because 

people so tuned 

to the humdrum laws: 

gravity, mortality – 

can’t open 

to symbol’s power 

unless convinced of its ground, 

its roots 

in bone and blood.

We must feel 

the pulse in the wound 

to believe 

that “with God 

all things 

are possible,” 

taste 

bread at Emmaus 

that warm hands 

broke and blessed.