So Familiar

So Familiar

(“Come and see what God has done. See what wonderful things he has done for his people!” Psalm 66:5)

Come and hear what the jazz is saying behind
the new café outside in the alley where tables have been set
and customers sip light wine in waiting for the late rays
to withdraw from their al fresco experiment. Chain-link
separates
the alley from the sidewalk; but the sweet saxophone
slides between alley and street without the slightest interruption.

Come and watch the way lazy snowflakes take their time
from heaven to winter’s soft landing. Focus on the trunks of
of the sub-alpine firs; evidence the storm sifted in from the north. A
broadbrush
stripe of white runs up the trunk to meet the branches
demarked in high contrast in overcast afternoon light.

Come and listen to the old man’s song, the words altered and
the tune so familiar you swear it is someone’s birthday. The
cracks at the edges of his mouth and the chasms between notes
in his voice salute the truth of a life well-lived; he sings and
smiles and tears up because you have smiled at his life and
all he wanted out of every day from the moment the magic happened
(the moment youth becomes adult despite the customary age)
was to live on this borrowed mud and dome, pay his rent proudly
and have enough awe and numbered days stashed away to
fill the air one more time

With the stories of good and better, how the God who hid
had been nearer, most of the time, than he had expected.