THE VISION OF JESUS OF NAZARETH CONCERNING JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH

Why do I carry this splintered wood upon my back,

Why do I suffer the children to grin thornily,

Why do I grant my nakedness to be seen

Crucified under my willing Father

(Father I dread the hurt for all my soul’s solidity),

And why am I who am the Son of God

Dirtily dying by hammer and by spike?

I am in canon with my future. I cry

But dwell upon my echo. I drag the cross,

But far, far off, divine, the choir sings.

[The art inspired by religions (all religions) is perhaps the only type of unalloyed good that comes of them.]