by Alex Ward

Jesus did a sleight-of-hand with my heart,
gave me a good one for a bad one.
I must become Him, said John the Baptist,
who lost his head.
God was lonely.
He missed His son.
He grieved when His son was crucified,
like David crying, “Absalom, Absalom.”
No one believes I’ve spent time with Jesus.
I keep the dandelion He gave me like
a little sun in my pocket.

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Alex Rainey Ward is a poet, novelist and songwriter. The first poem he ever wrote was for an Arbor Day contest; he won, and with some other children got to plant a tree by the river. He recently became a grandfather.