A truck driver driving up with a load of hay found a peacock
turning before him in the middle of the road, shouted,
“Get a load of that bastard!” and braked his truck to a shattering halt.

—Flannery O’Connor, “The King of the Birds”


It’ll be like that, the Second Coming.
Making your way, laden with hay,
down the same old local road,
and there you are, stopped dead by Christ
with no idea what to say
in the face of such transforming
glory. Helpless without a code
to die by, tact is sacrificed
and candor coughs up the words we need.
He was a bastard, truth be told,
His father being not of this world 
but the hidden one we just can’t see
until a blue-plumed vision stalls your truck
leaving you blind and wonderstruck.