Waiting to Cross

Jesus sits in the garden
pen in hand, New York Times
crossword half filled in,
his mind on forty-seven down:

He likes this alone time,
this slight diversion
as events catch up with him:
the machinations of a scheming
father take time to play out.

Five across: “Well Done!”

Jesus thinks about this awhile,
scratches his chin. Four letters.
No idea.

He takes a break for a moment,
listens to the sparrows talk,
the hum of bees as they enter
and exit daffodils.

Twenty Across: Domain, nine letters.

He thinks of a thousand URLs,
how in physics a domain
is a discrete region of magnetism
in ferromagnetic material
or how in mathematics it is
the set of possible values
of the independent variable
or variables of a function.

He’ll come back to that one,
like the others. It might be a while.


He folds the page up, tucks it
under a rock for someone else to find.
Slides the pen back into his shirt pocket.

Judas arrives with the soldiers, finally.

Read and listen to more of Kenneth Gurney’s poetry at http://www.kpgurney.me/Poet/Welcome.html.