By Dee Dee Risher
Never let me be the one
Used to make a point
like the unfortunate Thomas,
yoked forever to “doubting.”
By implication: weak of faith.
Lifted up to instruct
generations in how not to act;
in the virtue of
believing that which one has not witnessed
and the dangers of asking for proof.
No, I like this man, who bucks the crowd,
demands to see for himself,
goes against the grain. I like how
he wants to feel things,
dares to touch flesh,
finger wounds
as a way to become whole.
And then there comes the beautiful part,
the wind through the closed room:
Jesus’ hands lifting,
his soft voice offering Thomas
the thing he needed,
just that thing.
