Grasping with one last stronghold weathered,
now swarthy, once supple and verdant,
then golden to russet, now brittle,
her breath chides me to release my grip,
wisdom’s tumble down to earth. Yet by my side
I am twin, identical or kin we twist
and turn through seasons’ favors
to shade or gift pure expiration.
Within my veins his words still
flow. I am parchment left behind.
I will loosen, take her ride,
crumble to dust leaving bare
a fashioned branch refined
for spring’s incumbent arrival.
I was recently introduced to The Gospel of Thomas among other writings that did not “make it” into the canonical gospels. Sharon Taylor, a spiritual director at the Church of the Holy Family, ECC, gave me a taste of these sayings of Jesus at a workshop. I am so very surprised to hear these words, many of which are used in the New Testament. These are transformative words. They open my eyes and heart to help me discover who I am.
I also now realize how writing helps me process and understand, and then explain my learning. So my new project plan is to write a poem based on each of the sayings of my study of the Thomas gospel and the sharing within our study group.
The above poem is a similar take, “twin” seems appropriate here, on one of my earlier poems in October, Marl. Must be the season.
These are the secret sayings which the living Jesus spoke and which Didymos Judas Thomas wrote down.
(1) And he said, “Whoever finds the interpretation of these sayings will not experience death.”