Ναθαναήλ

“Ἐκ Ναζαρὲτ δύναταί τι ἀγαθὸν εἶναι;”

So Philip stops me at my plow, out of breath.
His eyes are bright and dark, and good with news –
“There’s men this world denies that others choose.
Who’d guess such good could come from Nazareth?”

With acres left to share, the shade beneath
A fig extends its branches. “What’s your news?”
(As coulter slices, so the mouldboard chews…)
“What is this good that comes from Nazareth?”

With furrowed brow, I hear – and watch the death
Of day proclaim the sun with darker news
That shares its share alike for pagans, Jews –
“Can anything of good come from Nazareth?”
In answer, light and shadow carve a path
Through fields and moments greater than the plow’s.

Comments

  1. Angelico Nguyen, Esq., OP says

    Light and sunrise are such plainly perfect images for the Good News, we (or at least, I) become over-familiar with them — taking them for granted precisely because they are so fitting.

    So your choice to write this scene at sunset, in chiaroscuro, is refreshingly korrektiv. Thank you.

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