Poetry

A snow-white dove
flies into the room’s window
and I remember how it had been,
how the crowd listened to the voice of God
 
at the stream where John was baptising,
how that dove descended,
the disciples stumbling around somewhat confused,
the Son of God who somewhat naked
 
stretched out His hands above His head to His Father,
the peace that suddenly came to the hearts of everyone,
the onlookers that did cover their eyes to the bright light
and how everybody looked and stared somewhat astonished at Him
 
and still I do wonder why God himself
came to perish for everyone on this planet?