Re(Count)

Re(Count)

(“I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.” Psalm 9:1)

That’s right; you put the secret in both the ears
of a child. You discounted the worth of one more person,
the words heard by children who think mysteries should be
parties and balloons and funnery,
never dark sentences to disguise the peeling paint from our own
limited color selections.

But, whatever you may have done,
whatever I may have heard,
whatever you may have said,
whatever name I have slurred,
whatever we both have pled,

The cat’s out of the bag, squirming in a young child’s brain.

That’s right; we’ve all let the nasty nouns fall on other parades,
filled fortune cookies with empty ticker tape,
put children on the front lines to tell our tales
(who doubts the innocence, therefore the judgment)
of a child.

Yet, for our wars and (mud, of thee I sing), Fine-ally,
our God of knowledge full, can spell the words we’ve left
partly voweled upon gravel flowers. Yet, for our spin and
(sin, fair and snake dance) our God of timeless location,
can stop the disc mid-song, expose the onion layers we
hoped protected our (I swear its true) stories. Hugs and
sorry-s don’t retrieve the airwaves danced yesterday on
ears unmentioned.

But pieces in a box, players around a table, we
(all, like both Cain and Abel) have little to offer to
the One who Wholly is what we (holy are not).
My wins and losses and reporting thereof, never match
(Oh Praise and peace) the Truth that always speaks
(and does)
wonderful words of love.