Poem January 17, 1976 Issue

ANANIAS

Acts 9:10–18

Rushworth M. Kidder

"I heard you, Lord: 'Heal him.'
But ... may I say a word?
This Saul—haven't I heard
about Jerusalem
and how he scorched us there—
the violence, terror, despair?"

Ananias,
what matters to us
nineteen centuries since
is that you shattered such logic
and listened.
Routing your own resistance, you trusted,
freeing the verse of your heart
with the rhythm of intuition.
Love-led, you dared face hatred with compassion.

Not that you didn't question—
we all have. But out of that blaze
you came, wide-eyed and childlike,
to uncritical innocence.

Without your kind, the Sauls would be
nothing
but blind.

Rushworth M. Kidder

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