And Then Jesus Won't Be Stone

It's 8am on a Saturday morning
sitting on the edge of my bed
I'm looking at one of the photos I've taken
a stone Jesus against a storm cloud background
i took the picture laying on the ground
looking up at him i see his outstretched hands
a biblical passage comes to mind
"behold the man"
for whatever reason my mind goes to my own mortality
one day, sooner than I'd like,I'll be gone
I look at the other photos on my wall
other images I've captured of
people,places, emotions, ambiance
one of my daughter and me
happier times
when the depth of our relationships wasn't so questionable

a large chunk of driftwood on a sandy beach
the waves of lake superior gently rolling toward the shore
a place I'd stood hypnotized by tranquility

a lonely dirt road I'd walked at sunrise
hues of gold, orange, violet
what would seem contrasting colors on a palette
blended so perfectly
looking at the beautiful picture
you'd never know
my eyes were filled with tears when i took it
there are three photos of fruits and vegetables
two from an open market in Montreal
red chili peppers hanging on strings
a display of berries, garlic and squash
orange, green, yellow, red, white, black
foods which sustain us also the purest art
the third photo of tomatoes from my own garden
a bountiful harvest of quarter-sized sweetness
these words may seem redundant
shades of green, orange, yellow purple
the picture a tribute to hard work and harvest
i suppose i could muse philosophically
no one's really interested in that
there's a line on another wall
pencil-drawn, about three feet long
the line marks the place where more photos will go
I've several to choose from
all ones i have taken over the years
people, places, emotions, ambiance
hard to say which ones will make their way
these walls of mine a tribute, a shrine
to experiences and memories
marking my days, my life
some Saturday morning
I'll sit on my bed at 8am
one of them will catch my eye
I will ponder the significance
Just like today when Jesus
holding his arms open to me
transported me to other times and other places
moments of happiness and peace
sadness and contemplation
It's 8:28am
an emotional storm is setting in
the pressure in my face
as i feel the weight of reminiscence
soon the rain will fall down my cheeks
then it will pass
just like my life
before my eyes in these photographs
And then Jesus won't be stone