TO ST. BARTHOLOMEW / by Joseph Castorino

 

With smug sarcasm you doubted Philip:

  The Christ from Nazareth could not come;

To you it sounded like your friend’s

  Naivete was in reality pretty dumb.

 

But this Jesus said, smiling softly,

  That he had seen you under the fig tree;

Your spiritual eyes suddenly opened, and

  The true Messiah did you finally see.

 

You saw Lazarus lazily lurch forward,

  As he stepped out of his rocky grave;

This was one of many amazing miracles

  That in the end your soul did save.

 

Decades later, you screeched and screamed in pain

  As your sordid killers skinned you alive;

But now your bright eyes see Heavenly glory

   Where for eternity you very happily thrive.