by Patrick Pfister
Holy Week in Spain and we linger
before a painting of Christ crucified.
In the heart of blended brushwork,
I behold pain, Carmen sees tenderness.
“His grandchildren say it needs more
light,” the docent tells us.
“The gallery, not the painting.”
We follow her round the room,
but return to the Lamb of God,
nailed to wood.
His stigmata hands.
His thorn-pricked head.
His spear-punctured ribs.
The bold bold stroke of
His luminous gaze.
Tenderness, pain, light.
Two days to Resurrection.
Patrick Pfister is the author of the poetry book, El Camino & Other Travel Poems. His poetry has appeared in Gargoyle, Juked, Virginia Normal and other literary magazines. He is the director of two award-winning documentary films about poetry: The Stone Circle and Poetry, New York. His novels are published by Spuyten Duyvil Press, NY. He lives in Barcelona, Spain. www.patrickpfister.com
