Ye who do go conversing sad.
Ye who see now
Your Lord drawing near
And yet see Him not.
Ye for whom Love
Had died upon the gibbet
Drowned in blood that dread Friday afternoon
And all was thought lost.
Ye for whom both prophets and eyewitnesses sound opaque.
Ye who have heard the manifold things wondrous all
And yet have heard in them Him not.
O foolish ones! Hear ye still
And not only hear but listen too
To the Piercéd Word who pierceth the veil
Between your tried and tired faith
And creeping disbelief.
Ye who beckon your Friend to tarry.
Ye for whom heart’s fire
Was enkindled on that dusty road.
Your Master now waiteth reclined as Guest
To serve Himself through Bread.
For ‘tis in this will ye recognize anew
your thought lost Lord
And this last acquaintance will be as if for first.
Image: Robert Zünd, Gang nach Emmaus