Not a Bookmark

Not a Bookmark

(“But they were looking for a better place, a heavenly homeland. That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” Hebrews 11:16)

This is no bus stop,
waiting for the next ride out of town.
This is no train station,
hoping to ride the rails further underground.
This is no turnstile,
counting your head as you pay for your playland.
This is no country club,
where drinks are served to the exclusive male and
other perfect genders.

This is ground zero, baby.
This is where the work gets done.
This is bone marrow, honey.
This is where our lives get born.
This is the opening curtain,
This is where we play for keeps,
This is first night on the boards,
No time for taking bows.

Who said this was the time to improvise,
to replace words of truth and love with lies?
Where did you learn to see darkness in the sunrise
And whiteness in the anthem you sing?

There is a better union, if only we will keep on walking,
there is a brighter day, if only we will circle the halting,
There are deeper rivers, if only we will keep on hoping,
There is a new downtown, if only we will keep on holding
the cigarette man
and the $20 girl
and the shivering boy
and the ignored woman
in the sphere that makes all things equal
and all things beloved.

This ain’t an Uber stop,
it’s not a bookmark or placeholder.
This is the essence of days, eternity past,
and, to be bolder, the garden we are called to tend
till kingdom and heaven come.