One More Time Again

One More Time Again

(“Then the woman went and told her husband, ‘A man of God has come to me, and he looked as frightening as the angel of God. I didn't ask him where he came from, and he didn't tell me his name.’” Judges 13:6)

I would ride the rails of frightful suspense
under hope and over trembles, passing the ridges
over and over again. I would straddle the morning
as the steel wheels chirped the overheard songs they learned
from the passages of time.

I would meet You, if I could, full armored and full beloved;
I would find You, if you would allow me entrance, my face
stubbled with left-over coffee and red eyes staring through the night
trying to catch a glimpse of the dodgy star brighter than the rest,
or at least to sight the fuzzy Aurora Borealis.

If You were a bonfire I would stare all night,
a performer in the center ring of a second rate circus
and You would still hold my interest.
But I must say, (perhaps I merely wish to) invisible as You are,
my attention flits to words on a page, written or still unwrit.

Having seen Jesus I have seen You, Father, and I believe it better
than I believe any other. But I must tell you, I think it is time
for a road trip to find the place where Your concealed
name and place of origin are
better discerned for my habitual panic.

I’m asking for success one more time. To feel I’m
worth Your time again. I’m asking You to fill
my rhymes with truth again, change for good
without/within, and let the sound, the squeak of the wheels
arriving into our last station, the final destination;

And let the sound of the wheels seem to say,
though we know it never was before,
let the wheels say, our last reservation,
let the wheels say and we echo again,

“amen”