Lamp of the Body

Doubting Thomas

43 douBting thomas I was tired of the smoke and mirrors.The loaves, the fish, but not nearly enough time. What could I say to him, friend I buried, when he woke and called to me softly from the shadows? Go now.The business of faith bores me. I could take it or leave it. Understand, I touched his wounds because I wanted to feel his warmth on my own hands. If I doubted anything then, it was humanity. Disillusionment is what happens when men dabble in magic. Celebrity is a tree on fire and of the thousands standing near, none is near enough to lick the flames from your face. Once the embers burning above us were enough. I believe he doubled back from death to breathe home’s balmy air, to stand in light among us one last time beneath the high heavens. For this brotherhood I lose a brother; I spit upon the lot we’ve drawn. So much for twilight 44 spent floating on the river, talking of women we were not to love, and of their skin scrubbed sweet as tangerines. So much for nights we passed in the desert, drunk under the young stars whose names were new. Once my friend agreed: No one could recognize each luminous body across this broadening, eternal cleft. ...