The Whole Picture

The Whole Picture

(“I will turn you around and drive you on.” Ezekiel 39:2a)

Jigsaw pieces scatter across the wind with one landing

in an opinionated lap, others on babies, some on scholars,

and half lost in the scraps waiting to be recycled on the evening

news again.

Let the highlights ignore the commas, let the soundbites bold case

the dramatic bits until no edges are left to orient the pieces

on our card table come Thanksgiving and Christmas.

That is why

I never buy

jigsaw puzzles

at antique stores.

That is why

I hope to buy

Leon Russell

at Tower Records

or another vinyl store.

“Mama, I cannot tell what color the little girl’s eyes are. The piece is lost

between twisted bookcases or couch cushions with seams unraveled. Mama,

can you help me? What color do you think the little girl’s eyes should be?”

Magog will attack, with Rosh right behind, miniscule references to

Moscow and Russia. Though linguists note no equivalence, some teach

by rote the day-by-day play-by-play of the last days countdown from

10 at 70 AD to 1 at nearly now.

Today I’ve noticed the air is crisp, skin-thin frost on my windshield,

a jacket across my back. Soon we elect the next in line to preside

over a country fat and rich, poor and suffering; hungry for bread,

a bite of truth; aching for work, a portion righteousness, decency;

simple dishes made in the country, chicken to pot, kale to sauce,

and a simple prayer before we eat that thanks Him who created

our feet to fit the earth we walk, our hands to caress the fruit

eat, and our minds to ponder all the truth we can wonder about

Him who created the jigsaw

complete.