Brooding unhatchable eggs upon the moon.
May forth he came
From stars and stones and streams,
Imprimatur on bone
Of cubist dreams and austere allegory. 

Transecting time and space
We sat around a table
To focus on his face
Or an idea, unable
To unfold the dark white rose
Of Christian fable. 

A time for miracles--indeed, for human 
apprehension;
Shadows were not cast by objects then
But by conceptions.
There to witness one Authority
The trembling avowals of a blind
                     minority. 

We heard his metaphysics
We determined his humanity;
The one was like a reef
The other was the sea. 

© "glo-po" 2001 ------ continue ....