“As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax booth, and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’ And he rose and followed him.”
It is given one line.
An entire life changed, everything dropped,
the oar-less boat, picked up by the tide.
I let my eyes travel over the titles surrounding my desk,
the greatest thinkers who ever
put pen to paper,
arrayed like a brick wall.
I don’t follow any of them
although I respect them all.
I have sat for hours,
chin on fist,
in female form
until my back and teeth ached.
Print can never look into your eyes,
the hint of a smile on dry lips,
the faintest dip of the head that says,
“I see you, in your completely amazing fullness.”
No wonder the scribes
with their squinting gazes felt