thick stick 

Harvey S. Mozolak

a thick stick

planted among bedding materials

sprouts

a sparrow alights

to gather loose broken bark

and carry a splinter away

for it is spring

we are told he had no place

to lay his head

that even animals have holes and dens

nests and gathered pine

his straw stripped and scattered

in an urgent flight to Egypt

he did sleep in the house of Lazarus

and his sisters Mary and Martha

Lazarus who had slept in the grave

and awaked by the alarm of his name

called and heard while stone silent

deaf by death 

pillowed already in reeking rot

homeless he did recline at the meal

where his body and blood

given and shed were passed

that dark night of betrayal 

when his address was kissed 

like a mezuzah by Judas

Jesus the doorpost

and he had slept aboard 

the disciples’ ship in the tempest

as now he lay down 

on the two tree limbs

branchless boards 

keeled for killing 

mast-less and grounded

fitted with Roman ropes

awaiting the storm of our sin

filling his drowning lifted lungs

crying out for us 

to his Father

to prepare us room 

for harbored rest and to rejoice in rising

with God our home