Checking In

Checking In

(“Let me pass through your land, I will travel only on the highway; I will not turn aside to the right or to the left.” Deuteronomy 2:27)

You tried to catch my chin again,
turn my sideways to burn red
instead of loving the trees and the blooms that waved
overhead just above the disagreeable
critics who heard the blues
and said
there was no life where they used to play like gardens.

But you insisted, with my chin in your hand,
that my little backyard roses and lavender
did not match your meandering horticulture
of vines and wild blackberry invaders.

Until a visitor knocked and inquired about my name:
Their smile hand happy old-time twang
brought me back to center again,
“We’ve heard of your garden, sir, and
I have to say,
we would love to stay and afternoon there,
someday.”

I turned my chin and started down the path again,
but first I touched the hands that had turned me aside,
and asked,

“If you would like, sir, I will check in on your garden,
next time I pass that way.”