Thomas

He’s alive.
He’s alive.
We have seen Him.
We have spoken to Him.
He has spoken to us.
He has come back
from the dead.
He is risen.
He is alive.

That’s all
they talked about.
The whole topic
of their conversation
for days now.
They all
believed it.
Well they would,
wouldn’t they.
They have seen Him;
spoken to Him.
But
I haven’t.

I am trying
to believe it.
I would like
to believe it.
But
its all
so fanciful;
so amazing.
Too amazing.
It can’t be true,
not really,
can it?

I wasn’t with them
when He came.
At least
when they say
He came.
Was it Him?
Was it really Him?

I’m sorry
I was missing
that evening.
But
He must have known
I wasn’t there.
So,
if it really was Him
why
doesn’t He come
to me?
He met with
Mary.
He walked with
Cleopas;
talked with him
for a long time,
so they tell me.
So
why won’t He talk
to me?
Have I done something
wrong?

The others
seem so much happier;
seem to have a purpose;
a life again.
So something
must have happened.
I want to believe it.
I really do.

Just suppose
that they are right;
that they have
seen Him;
spoken with Him.
Just suppose
that He is alive.
It’s mind-blowing.
It changes everything.

I want to know.
More than anything
I want to know.
I need to know.
I can’t go on
with this
doubt.
I want to see you
Lord
I want to hear you.
And,
most of all
I want to touch you
to prove
to myself
that this is real;
that You are real.

Lord,
if you are there
then please
answer me….


He is alive!!


© Kathleen Wilks