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The Road to Emmaus -   Joseph von Führich


A Mysterious Companion



We had hung around 

those who followed him, 

on the fringes

of what was going on

Something about him 

magnetised us -

a harnessed energy -

His actions were natural

as running water,

performed with gentle 

economy of movement,

as if integrity

on every front

was key to healing

and wisdom's pearls

must not fall foul

beneath forked feet

His words singed 

a place in the memory

for Good, echoing 

of a past and future Now,

strange cadences 

on the tongue

of a Nazarene.


The women held their breath,

rapt at the sight.

Adam was in focus

and the locus 

of their response,

the chambers of the heart.


He drew the children 

with no sweet enchantment,

no narcissistic guile,

only the gift

of their reflected selves

within God's eye.


Next thing we knew,

they'd laid a charge

of gross profanity

against him

He was the pinnacle

of innocence to us.


They slaughtered him

to feed carnivorous appetite,

an orgiastic rite

Pitch night 

eclipsed the light

and Jerusalem was mute.


Turning tail, we trudged

the homeward dust

we'd shaken off

without a second thought,

retreating to a shell

that did not beckon

and reckoned with 

no warmth and welcome

Where were we headed

but to an emptiness

we'd gladly forsaken?

We knew well enough,

as twilight empurpled

the day with regal shades,

imparting mystery

to our deadened tones,

that something momentous

had taken place

We could not match

the expectation

still suspended in the soul

with unrewarded dreams

We seemed no longer

enough for one another.


When all at once,

our quantum leap of longing

begat a perfect stranger!

Unaware of the demise

of Israel's hope,

he kindled a flame

so bursting bright, 

it cast new light 

upon unfolding history

and pulsating promises

of scripture

We didn't want to part

and begged him tarry

at our door, come,

cross the threshold,

kindle our dusty lamps,

set our hearth ablaze,

share our supper,

drink our wine,

let not this day's vision

go stale on us!

Our yen to seal the bond

compelled oblivion

of the meagre larder.


The tactile planes

of earth dissolved

into heaven's board

and victuals spread

before our Guest,

he blessed,

and broke the bread -

such precious fare

within his hands -

as if he would return our gift

with value manifold

How blind! How blind

our flesh and blood!

We knew him then, 

our Host!

That instant, he was gone...

bequeathing us the Holy Ghost

Had we prefigured him,

or he us?

In consuming,

he was himself 


and by that means,

he made us Whole.



 The Emmaus Disciples - Abraham Bloemaerts


Supper at Emmaus  - Léon-Augustin Lhermitte


From Mysteries of Light, Poems through a Prism



Poems for the Easter Season


Ecce Homo (Palm Sunday)

Hero (Palm Sunday)

Prodigal (Holy Week) 

Judas' Lament (Holy Thursday)

The Great Divide (Holy Thursday)

Shards (Good Friday)

Eve's Legacy (Holy Saturday)

Paradise Glimpsed (Easter Day)

A Stepping Stone (Easter Day and Week)

Way Home (Easter Week)



Thy Kingdom Come  






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