The seventeen-foot-high
marble giant—
unable to wear the king’s
encumbering armor—
stands naked
twisting contrapposto
—as conflicting as a guilty man
freely pardoned—
sling slung over his shoulder,
right hand clutching solid rock—
like a fortress
resistant to hammer-blows—
eyes pierce through centuries
looking at Rome—
crucifier of his Savior
fruit of his loins—
unaware that curls are coiling
a premature crown
above his ears.
Ears listening
to a promise recoiling
through the millennia
I will make an everlasting
covenant with you.
He stands silent as white—
a witness to the peoples.
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