One Step... Two Step

                         
You have seen a vision that consumes you,
fumbles you for its words,
lightens your eyes, quickens your breath,
For you saw him walking along the border,
a white sandy beach between the painted city
and the rocking cradle of the tsunami,
through a tumult of rioting definitions,
some that would kill him there if they could.

He walked serenely through them with quiet disregard,
open faced and clear of gaze.

 He caught your eye and held you locked in his visual embrace,
heard him call your name, filling your mind with the sound.

Your questions vaporized to utterly nothing.

He  filled you with knowing deeper than you  know anything else,
subliminal revelation deeper than language,
 books, if you could write, the entire world could not hold,
all in silence, in the midst of the storm he strolled among,
you saw him catch first one eye and then another.

Your turn came and like them you are sent:
"Write the vision that he who reads it may run."

Commissioned, the calling is upon you,
and now, in your own tumult through time,
remember the vision, as you walk that same shore.

His river bears the words you seek
"write, for this is faithful and true:
Behold I make all things new."