The whispers Thomas heard
walled him in with thought,
heart-sick, tormented, not
open to silly words.
Flesh to dead body. Then how
alive — and walking, here?
(He faced the brute facts more
than the ten others. He knew.)
Blind in his mirrory grief,
stony, he came to them. And
they heard “Stretch out your hand….”
Thomas abandoned proof.
They saw because they wanted to?
They all half-doubted when
He asked for fish and honeycomb,
took it, and ate it too.
It was the doctor later who
said it had been so.