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Poetry: Jesus

Who I Am

I am not who you think I am,
said the man beside the wrought iron
gate. To you I am a ghost,
but others see me as a pearl.
Blinding iridescent colors of silver
and blue lay waste to everything
that once was dark.
I am someone unseen
until it is too late.
You will ask me if I'm all there is,
and I will say that I'm all there was
and will be again.
I am a contradiction.
You don't understand what you
can't see, feel, touch. But,
I am. I am.

Learn more about this author, Amanda Hersch.
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