The Man On The Cross Poem by Bill Grace

I knew him first in pewter and porcelain and plastic
Before I knew him
It was an “Acts” retreat strangely enough
Not the future bishop who was a colleague,
Not Robert Bellah at CAL -

(Princeton made a great mistake
In not giving him Einstein’s seat
It would have been like having Isaiah on campus
Or at least his spirit,)

No, it was a group of men -
Forgive the chauvinism there were no gals -
Baptized by love and brutal honesty
Who worked and worked and worked and worked,
Someone had to pull that little red cart
With the sound system on it.

It has been three weeks and only now I write,
Almost every day I write and sometimes even publish.
But tonight I write – still in shock
And leave my apology
To that man on the cross
Something about gravity and steel
And running out of paper.