Holy Mountain
A Poem
Let none suppose a fable To be what I proclaim. I saw the glory of the Rock That gave to me my name. Majesty I witnessed— Yes, James, and John, and I. There was a cloud and then a voice. I spoke, and God replied: “This is my Son, beloved. Listen, you, to Him!” Our Teacher shone so bright, I thought The sun was going dim. When on the holy mountain We saw His shining face, Elijah preached and Moses taught; The Son brought truth and grace. It was not myths and tales That we devised to tell. Assuredly, we saw the face That terrifies all hell. A gospel bright with glory— Surpassing every wish— Is what I caught and promulgate Who once was catching fish.
Thank you for reading this short and unpolished poem inspired by 2 Peter 1:16. Check out more poetry here, my latest devotional piece on the generosity of God, and this reflection on Alessandro Manzoni’s The Betrothed.