River Response

River Response

(“Help us, O God of our salvation! Help us for the glory of your name. Save us and forgive our sins for the honor of your name.” Psalm 79:9)

Traction holds me tighter to this road than I
think
I ever intended.
The slips to sideways always sweat me
back to the middle, the safe lane furthest away
from the, oh, soft shoulder. I like the asphalt better
than ridges or gravel that make me spin,
grabbing me again at just the point I had
regained control.

The valleys call me, the river that percolates
green into froth and white below my sight,
beneath my hearing. I yearn for its banks of quiet
where choices won’t drag me ditching in overturned steel.

The river answers, the valley that circulates
lush into brown loam harmonizing the response
I wished for every tear-filled walk after failing to
control the steering, and losing my voce once again.

So now I do not waver, nor wander, nor explore;
all in the name of safety, all to reclaim my hasty name
I bragged about on Thursday and choked upon by Sunday.

You would think the river with her roar,
the valley with her pre-green pasture,
would remind me, even after more
chapters erased than written,
that the air is still perfume,
the floor soft as the footprints of a fawn,
and the ceiling still singing the song,
the variations on a theme composed eternities ago;

You would think that creation’s Glory
would call me still, though I slip upon the
rocks more often, when I tire of (no, I hate)
another 100 miles at the wheel.

The river and the road, sigh, may my soul remember the rumor
that there is One who receives honor from simple excursions
and impromptu picnics after all the forgiving
is done.