On The Feast Of Christ The King Poem by Steven Federle

The long day ends, at long last, and we assemble in the sky.

I call it 'sky' though, like earth and sea, sky is no more,
and though I don't know how, I stand nowhere,
in a great hall of recalled light,
breathing a memory of oxygen.

I say 'we assemble' though I can
see no bodies, not even my own,

Yet I hear them breathe, and in their grasping hands,
feel their nameless fear as His voice fills this place
and begins the Great Division...
sheep to the right, goats to the left.

Uncertain of my fate I hear Him say,
'I was hungry and you gave me something to eat.'

In fear I search for an instance
when I stopped for the beggar,
fished for a coin at the traffic light,
but nearly always, embarrassed, looked away.

'I was a stranger and you made me feel welcome'...

I voted for a candidate who offered electric borders,
fences to exclude dreamers,
execute aliens.

Trembling, I turn away
and for mercy pray
for just one more day.