Rabbi and Brother
Today I saw you.
You have spoken with me before.
And I know your voice.
You have guided me before.
More than you, so has our forlorn Mother.
But today was utterly different.
The ancient crucifix in my hand worked miracle after miracle.
And I, Rabbi, had to run away,
Frightened of all that you were about to reveal.
I now know that I am not yet ready.
I now know that cup is not yet full.
I am not yet ready to see my most holy mother suckle you
But you chose to show me that,
And so did She.
And your divine face
Why did you choose to reveal yourself so blatantly
I cannot think of a worse description than that.
I saw fire in your eyes one moment and never ending sadness the next.
I saw your bearded face
Blazing one moment and crimson the next.
Most Holy brother,
I plead with thee
I am not yet ready
May be I shall never be ready.
Be merciful, like you are supposed to have said to those disciples
Maybe after I have shed this prison of flesh and bone
And blood and dung and mucus
Maybe then I shall be ready to understand what you are telling me now.
But till then
The fire in your eyes,
The limitless sadness in your eyes.
Maybe I am crazy, nuts, whatever.
But I saw you and I saw our beloved and holy mother,
And I cannot bear that vision.
I plead with you, dearest Brother
I beg of you,
Our Mother revealed to me once that I did not choose her but that she had chosen me.
Are you choosing me now?
" Follow me".
Is that your order?
But Rabbi, that path I did choose long ago.
Do you always frighten your followers?