Second Coming: A Poem

I originally wrote this little poem last year, and though it mentions LGBT issues very briefly, it’s designed for everyone to enjoy and think and reflect on. I got to thinking about the fact the other day that we have so much diversity in and within the LGBT Community, and I experience a lot of diversity in the bisexual community, yet we all (most of the time) bond together and support and love one another despite our differences, celebrating unity in diversity. It made me wish that the Christian community could do the same. However everyone reading this decides to spend their holiday season, don’t forget that the real meaning of Christmas is celebrating the gift of God’s Love for us all as embodied in the gift of Jesus’ life, ministry and teachings so that all of us, including LGBT Christians, can share in the glory of the Kingdom of Heaven forever, within all of our hearts — if only we believe.

Happy Holidays!


Second Coming

the night a deep shade of blue; sky the color of ice
winter touching the land, sending out icy tendrils of wind
to chill the souls of those who couldn’t quite afford a jacket this year;
the scent of cozy fireplaces beckon from far away; neighborhoods
he has never seen before, ones to where he
knows in his appearance he will never be asked to come in and sit
by the fire, get warm… approaching the prefab steel cathedral
through the spotlights and the brilliance he sees them inside
seeming to worship yet they seem so silent — he sees their
faces that seem filled with a sadness
only the little children seem
to smile, alive with a glow as if they are awaiting
for something wonderful to happen soon,
they KNOW…
he shuffles in his tattered clothes towards the huge front doors looking at
those inside — is this a department store or the house of
God? he wonders silently hearing words that speak of salvation
and rescue from eternal death but scarcely of love,
scarcely of compassion, and avioding inclusion;
the miracle and mystery of something so beautiful, pure, and eternal
trivialized to a mere credit transaction based upon a willingness to sign
agreements without asking to see the fine print
and a bill that seems paid yet at the same time never seems to be
as the collection agencies are always always waiting to catch someone
overspending their limit and snaring them with interest
do those advertising this package for salvation like the gift everyone must have know that one size
doesn’t fit all? That the size that fits them may be painful for another to
wear? he wonders how many will the store tonight never to
return, wanting to go back but discouraged with their purchase
believing that their gift could never be good enough
instead going elsewhere where they may have to deal with dishonest
and uncaring merchants unaware that their credit was good here all along?
he knows, he shakes his head; a tear runs down his eye; he begins to weep
he walks up to the door; knowing his appearance could frighten some but
persisting, needing, seeking shelter,to hear, to know more… the guard by
the door smiles, and points
the way to the shelter down the street, where they will “take him in and help him”;
his eyes saying this is a formal Christmas eve service… the smiling guard
says “God Bless You”; the stranger knows it to be true
the guard quickly turns and walks away; standing with his
back against the door as he closes it; a draft of fresh warm air
teasing the stranger’s need for warmth then vanishing as he walks
away, heart smiling at the man
for caring enough to send him to a safe place;
and he arrives at the corner he was shown; a three
story building with a faded sign that used to read “Jesus
Saves” under which someone has spray painted the words
“everyone except” followed by several blatantly derisive
epithtets: “faggots, dykes, queers, niggers, sluts, and jews”
he wanders inside; the smell of food is rich and
there is a warm fire around which five people huddle
seeking to keep warm; he is greeted with a smile and open arms as they ask
him where he is from, to which he says he is just passing
through town, on his way home he needs shelter and can find none
“Merry Christmas” they say; and they offer him the
food they were given by the boy from the salvation army down the
street before they went home to share Christmas with their
families. The two men offer him a blanket, so he can sleep in
warmth on the hard cot; the woman and her daughter offer him a
pair of shoes they have made to give to father in case
he locates them and decides to come home this year;
the teenage boy that used to go to the cathedral he passed on the
way here but was asked to leave a few months before
when the leaves were still just beginning to change color and the boy’s
parents realized he would not
grow into the strong oak they expected
gives the man his worn and tattered New Testament, pages
dog eared to the verses about Love
and says hey man
take this it will change your life
God loves you no matter what
and all of them offer whatever gifts they can,
gifts offered
by those with nothing to give have a way of melting the heart
of the seemingly loneliest soul
yet he refuses them, smiling,
touching their hands, holding them gently in his and saying
“I desire mercy, not sacrifice”
They wrap him in a blanket and he falls asleep by the
fire through the cracked and dusty glass window pane the
star over the east river shines like a torch
as church bells ring in seeming to say
“Peace on Earth and Good Will to all”;
and the man hopes that somewhere tonight
someone will know that that is what tonight originally happened for
everyone exchanges hugs and says Merry Christmas, I love yous and
suddenly the cold little room is warm
even when it is colder within than outside
the five awake and the snow outside dances
on the ground like angels; the little girl wakes her
Mother and says
“Mommy that nice man is gone”
“Didn’t he look just like Jesus?”