Untouchable.
An unclean dead body
When they wrapped me in grave clothes,
To separate me from the world of life.
They covered me with spices
To hide the scent
Of my last voyage,
Heading back to the stars
From which I’d come.
Called forth, I rose,
Aye, I stood,
Aye, I stepped,
Out from that grave.
The warp and weave
Of death’s veil
Changed my vision.
I saw reality as tattered pixels.
I saw truth’s colors, as only a ghost sees.
Untouchable still.
No one wants to lay hands
On a dead man risen.
Only the bravest souls
Unbound my skin,
Uncovered my face,
Stripped death from me,
Let light touch my naked heart,
And clothed me in grace.
Have I failed my fiery test?
Will I be forgiven?
I don’t fit.
I feel out of place.
In a world where folks cheer
When Goodness is shot in the face.
Love is such a simple word.
Which part of it
Do they not understand?
My eyes have seen hell.
My ears have heard torment.
My mouth has tales to tell.
But few want to hear
From one back from the dead.
They have other prophets
Who do miracles;
Turning victims into villains,
Making empathy disappear.
The crowds have dwindled.
The novelty must have faded.
I sit in the dust like one out of time,
Wondering how has the world
Moved so far away.
I know it’ll be back.
I can see it in the faces of those
Who believe that Love
Is always resurrected.
So, I’m not helpless
Because I’m not alone.
We hold hands,
Letting our sparks pass
From one to another.
They grow brighter each time.
Love’s light shining,
Reminiscent of the stars
From which we’ve all come.
j.w. McKinleyville, 1/23/26