I Need a Getaway

I Need a Getaway

(“I mean that you have been saved by grace because you believed. You did not save yourselves; it was a gift from God.” Ephesians 2:8)

Yes, it’s true; I need a getaway.
I need a gateway to another lane.
This one has become narrow and the end
is impossible to see.
I just need to get faraway.
I need a fairway with easy approach shots.
This one is hilly and constricts
my point of view.

Yes, it’s true: I have wandered far;
far beyond my better welfare (or so they say).
This globe has become slippery and my shoes
squeak like spaceboots on the moon.
Look how easily I’ve squandered
the content I acquired from garage to alley
and back. There is little room remaining
to add another point of view.

Yes, it’s true: I shouted:

“I don’t believe in God anymore.”

And if it is any solace to you, it was
at the tail end of a dream, but still,
everyone I’ve ever known could hear the
honest scream like it was streaming
through every device upon the planet.

I hope you will not fan it into flame,
I hope you will not forget my name,
I hope for one, maybe two, who will take the fall with me,
will let their life stall with me,
bent just like me, bent just like a question mark;
front and back. Oh, the mockingbirds on the lawn
have not inquired about my faith.

It was only a dream, but it pushed open the pressure valve
that I kept closed and sealed so no one could see the leak
and puddles
of my doubt.

But now you know; I need a vacation;
I’ve heard all the explanations;
They are imprinted on halfsheets of scratch paper
And in every synapse firing through my brain.
Just the same; I need a holiday.
I need a holy day that doesn’t make me
darker or stab me sharper than
than the lightning that stings my devoted
attempts at piety.

I need a getaway; a merciful respite where,
though unaware of the divine at all,
I am cared for personally hidden from those who
thought my gauzy revelation (my god, my god, why?)
was surely my downfall.