A poem about a Spirit that crosses twenty centuries into modern America.
Twenty centuries ago a man walked alone
down a dusty Judean road to his death.
The years containing the memory of mankind
since that time contain both blood and faith
mingling together to form the ink
that make the pages of human history.
He appeared again on a busy downtown street
emerging into the heart of New York City.
From the unseen world of other dimensions,
He stepped into December’s hustle and bustle.
Cold cash registers rang in his ears.
Modern money-changers praised his name.
The masses of humanity hurried as He watched
to make its next appointment
before stopping off for a double-martini.
As the current-day Messiah walked the avenue that cold night,
He heard the Salvation Army bell ringing on the corner.
His eyes met the gaze of a young woman
who chose to brave the cold and frigid stares.
From his pocket, he produced a bill to insert into her kettle.
Looking out over the neon city,
he disappeared unnoticed
into the unknown dimensions once again.
An intercessory prayer swirled like mist from his lips into the air,
born from the modern mind, uttered by the suffering soul
of the New York Nazarene.
“Jesus in New York”
Image by George Cassutto
Used with Permission