We lay naked in our hovel
near the Sea called Galilee
I stroked your ink dark hair
as you pressed against my chest
you with child
I with a world set on hate.
How could I know hate yet I did
it crawled between each pebbled
heart like sand fleas in spring
Still, hate is the grit in every man’s
mind which begs to be released on someone
or some idea. I’ve been chosen
to hang for man’s heresy
God? God is not I nor is He them.
If only I could teach truth without hate.
It is a crime of all mankind,
to hate without understanding
to know without understanding
to kill and die without reason.
It is the way of this world in which I sleep
with Mary near the pebbled beach of Galilee.