The Previous Phone Call

The Previous Phone Call

(“I pray that the Lord Jesus will be kind to you.” 1 Corinthians 16:23)

Now  the last phone call I received was well-intentioned,
but I have a view from another side of the mountain,
If I speak as I see, acknowledging the focus of the other’s scene,
everything can be disremembered and spread like stale smoke and perfume
until my observation is dissolved as completely as the last bubble
in old champagne.

If you looked at my heart carefully, microscopically, methodically,
a quarter century ago; you know before the first peek; you hear
it speak in healthy rhythm, and you would doubt any deficit of
love or
surrender,
sprint or
marathon,
though the breath may be heavy, and the mistakes plenty,
you would find only the few healed scars from crashing
friends and cars in laughter afterward.

Examine again the sautéed pathway, this
slow-cooked journey never running from self.
My fear has always been what men and friends would
do to me
if they could see
the banquet I serve myself. I smile when they
serve me all their best,
but my chief interests run counter to the daily special.

Grace is not a mask, it is the dialogue I would have with God
once every human eye had turned the other way.
It is the phone call I would have with you,
begging you to withdraw the names you gave me
and my best,
and join the dialogue we could have with God
once every human eye had learned the other way.