No lightning boltnor sudden fallbut the gentle tap-tapof mercy raininglike hoofbeatslike heartbeatsover the umbrellaof consciousness – Who are you? You sang, my pied piper;I was powerlessnot to follow; you led my soul astray, and it has never(it has rarely) looked back to see the salt flats of life withoutYou. Image: the Conversion of St Paul, anonymous 16th century Flemish, via wikimedia commons
If you were to write a gospel, what would you include? what might you leave out? Would you slide in a cameo of the time that Jesus, passing through your toll booth, caught your eye, mouthed, “Follow me”? Would you elide the moment of mad fear, somersaults of stomach and soul, taste of metal …
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