Portrait of Jesus at Six A.M.
This morning I woke up with a brush in my hand,
determined to deconstruct the image of a mono-toned man who only reflects one
side of salvation.
The hieroglyphics of hierarchy have bleached your
blemishes
With despotism and domination since before I was conceived
But this
morning, it will change.
This morning, the silenced voices of my own ancestors
will dance
Through the hues of your hair.
This morning, the persecuted presence of lost populations
Will thrive through the tones of your countenance.
This morning, the cries of the Cherokee Will ring through
the satin of your garb, And the voices of bigotry Will be silenced through the
shading of every lost seeker.
This morning, the beauty of night and noir and noise will
eradicate all limitations of my salvation and my canvas will capture the beauty
of each color in the world.
This time, the truth and hope and glory found in the
every drop of dew and in every morsel of majesty will come alive on this easel.
This time, the splendor of my savior will seep into
sources it has never seen because the brush I use has been erected by the
fingers of fluid faith.
This time, I will paint your face the color of water,
Your skin the hue of a night sky, Your body reflective of each person who has
ever seen beauty in the moon.
Poem used with permission of author. She is a senior
majoring in Religious Studies at Gettysburg College, Gettysburg, PA. Image of
"Jesus of the People" used with permission of artist Janet McKenzie - www.janetmckenzie.com
