Once the Daylight

Once the Daylight

(“Samuel served as Israel’s circuit judge all his life.” 1 Samuel 7:17)

It is never the work that makes timing worthwhile,
It is the light, cutting through the shadows, that fetches
the smile from our face and supplies the grace better replacing
duty after duty, place after place.

It is never the rounds, the ups and downs, that pile up word into an epitaph,
It is the way the house smells when you come back home, the second half,
the journey after the roam, the phone calls who wondered,
the generations who pondered who you were and how you
came to enter their morning and never leave unknown.

It is hardly the paycheck, the raincheck, the wages set in stone,
It is the habit of salutation, wayside with pets on the porch,
proprietor on the phone;
wife out back with the children organic and homegrown.

It is rarely the talent, the quickest fingers, precision’s boast,
it is the song unrehearsed, cradle to epilogue, by every customer
around the edge-of-town trading post;
the words you remember, the melody never lost,
you can pick it out in an instant, public domain,
traded across, handed down, taught by mama,
hummed by papa, danced by cousins round the
Friday night bonfire while the babies sleep their
first lullaby on the dusty blankets and sheets.

It is never the plaques or trophies, but the places filled
with worlds within a village, universes lit behind
golden shades on a cabin fall night. The men in rockers,
the women whispering children, the dancers gazing lightly

Content.  Who knew the visit, duty bound as last year’s sojourn,

Could aim the handwriting well-early in the day that all would read
once the daylight was done.