Cibola 47

Marcos 2 (cont’d)

Abruptly he feels a motion in his chest,
as if something had just been thrown
open: some secret opening, the gate
to a neglected millrace. Wheels
creaking to life in floury darkness.

Eyes closed, the friar becomes
intensely aware of the ground
beneath his knees: How miraculous
that it should BE,
should last,
should bear us up!
The untold riches that lie
right under our feet–where they belong.
And the Kingdom:
at hand, almost . . .

Thank you, Lord. Thank you.
I believe.
And I choose to alter nothing!
Make me the first or the last: in You
they are one & the same.
Whether this road leads to Jerusalem
or to Nineveh . . .

And joyfully Marcos realizes
all ways are clear: his Luck lies
unveiled–a Salome,
an Abishag–within this new
mansion of the mind.
But I will have no one before
You.

His guides seeing
his lips move, fall silent,
respecting as always the power
of unpronounced words. How
manifold are thy works he whispers,
gazing through the solemn faces
& out over the thorn scrub,
the ocean of heat.

__________

Salome: According to the Gospel of Mark, one of the three women (with Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Jesus) who watched the crucifixion and anointed Jesus’ body for burial.

How manifold are thy works: Psalm 104:24 – “O Lord, how manifold are thy works! In wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches.”