“I see Jesus”

I see Jesus

sprawled in the palms of acquaintances

and professors and now-friends,

who I expected to have hands full of stones

but instead meet me with warmth, like being handed

a bowl of mom’s chicken noodle

when there’s pressure behind your forehead,

behind your eyes.

This gentleness arrests me,

a love sprung forth by the Spring of Life.

Who am I to be met by it?

I am shocked

by this reflection of Yours I see

wading in the creek next to soft grass.

Willow branches above cast shadows

shifting slowly on the water’s surface,

draw with shapes of sunlight

on my back.

How much more kind are You?

- h.f.