While they were talking and discussing,
Jesus himself came near and went with them,
but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.
All those times you walked through loss,
wandered in disorientation,
trudged on an endless trek to nowhere…
and thought you were alone.
There is a kind of being held
that, if you let it hold you, holds you
through the deepest abyss, the bleakest ruin,
and never loses you.
But the Unseen One gives no clues,
you can’t detect your being held
any more than a fetus can.
Only afterward can the child
recognize the mother.
Even only now, late in the poem,
do you see:
someone has been reading with you
from the first word.
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