Written May 8th, 2022
Dear Jesus,
I stood gazing, holding a space of silent prayer at the Vedanta Temple in Santa Barbara, CA. Such a sweet and tender image of you holding a lamb.
I am that lamb. I feel your hands around my girth, my head leaning on your shoulder; the blue cloth over your white tunic.
I am transfixed. In love. In reverence. If you are my brother, you are the most elevated of brothers. My soul reaches out of my heart and deep into your picture.
You stirred.
Did you?
Were my eyes deceiving me? Was there a stirring in your hands? Did the lamb move and you needed to adjust? I stared at you even more deeply.
Yes, it was you. You are shimmering. Right there, right in front of me.
I pulled out the stool propped next to your picture and sat down right in front of you. It was just you and me. An intimacy not often granted, but grabbed none-the-less. I didn’t want to miss a moment with you.
The picture was moving, shimmering, light and movement – subtle and almost not seen. You could step out of the picture at any moment. I was ready for that.
But, I did need to check my sanity for a moment. Was this real? Was this happening? Were my eyes clear and my mental state normal? It felt so.
Sitting on the low stool, now looking up at the vertical oil portrait of you, I could feel your presence. You were as real as me. Both part and parcel to the Universe. Neither of us different nor other.
I heard a sound outside of supplicants coming to the temple. I quickly put the stool away and sat across from you, on the long bench. The movements, quick and almost impossible to recognize continued. As if you were alive, yet in the stillness of the canvas.
I turned bold. I asked you to open your eyes. The artist had you looking down at the lamb in your arms. I asked that you open your eyes and look at me. Somehow that would make positive my suspicion that you were, in fact, real.
Yes, the eyelids moved, and moved again. Again and again, I watched as your eyes opened. Stunned, I was made tiny in your brilliance.
You are my heart and my soul. My love, my dream and my salvation. You are a brother who came before and is here always. Your words have been passed down and are solace to millions. And, here, you are with me. Alone. I am yours. Only yours. Deep and abiding.
Fleming Conley
Letters to the Universe 