That young man is entirely beautiful---
blooming in adolescence; long-haired, slender,
and (most often) barefoot. Within his soul,
a need for Love---affetionate and tender---
dwells; and to which, though shy, he gives expression.
Those Temple guards, each one an animal,
wanted to rape him: I shall not forget
their failed attempt; and, soon, they may regret
their lives' sudden collision with grim doom
Now, Neaniskos keeps watch at the tomb
where they buried Jesus, whom Rome has slain
(to satisfy the priests---Pilate's concession
to them): he, whom we soildeirs, crucified
(justice miscarried, not soon rectified).
But Neaniskos thinks the man will rise
out of that sealed grave---oh, sometime tomorrow.
He said he greives, but not like others' sorrow
(though snide elders have made smug mockery).
But this is not just some teeanger's whim;
his faith in it is strong. Just look at him.
They say he hails from some small town, called Nain---
somewhat north of Jerusalem it lies
(they tell me on a slope) in Jesus' land,
that very fertile region, Galilee,
which Herod governs with severity.
With Neaniskos', in his company,
I would (in candor) be quite glad to spend
some time: for even I can understand
the urge to love and be loved---ardently;
the greatest force, I think, that can command
one's life with sometimes fierce immediacy.
J-Called