My Excuse

My Excuse

(“When He came to the disciples, He found them fast asleep and said to Peter, ‘So you were not able to watch with Me for a single hour?’” Matthew 26:40)

Sunshine shone on the therapy I missed;
I was racing to catch another glimpse of the lazy seal
who followed me as far along the riverbank as possible.
This time it wasn’t fantasy, I swear it; though it was someone else’s
experience
and not my own.

The sun had come out after days hiding behind the rain,
and I needed to explain the reasons I missed
the dialogue hour that insurance won’t cover,
but was ordered by forces beyond my control.
They had my phone number, knew where I lived,
but only called to poke me sharper about my need
to talk with you at all.

So, when someone showed the video of a seal following
their walk, I knew it would suffice, and would only spice
a hair or two to make it about me.

As to your other question, about my frequent naps,
all I can say (I can’t think of a better way) is sleep comes upon me
like an invitation from a grade school friend to a birthday party
at Disneyland. You may not understand this, but these days
sleep is my leap backwards before pain, shame and ego’s
frame on the wall that faded before I was ready.

Asleep, I cannot hear the solitary walls that waking squeeze my ears;
Asleep, I still do not see the wrong turns that have dumped me here,
Asleep, I can smell the sweet, walk the street in bare summer feet,
Asleep, I can dance, I can smile, I can hug, live, speak and love without fear.

So, as to your question, I once loved to pray until pain (who knows
how many kinds) deducted the time I had to do most anything at all.
I will not beg or excuse, my spirit still is willing, flesh still deathly weak;
and I thought clearer, loved better…

I cannot recall, the pain and trauma, plus offstage drama,
have nearly erased the places where words fit their proper slots.
I hope my syllables, stops and spots, match the meter of my
heart’s beat
to Your own.