So Rural and Plain

 

So Rural and Plain

(“How many times I yearned to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, but you were unwilling!” Luke 13:34b)

The day was
fog and grainy photos.
There may have been a storm outside,
there may have been a crowd.
There may have been wheat in the fields,
there may have been a few who
drove on past without reviewing the
scent of new-mown grass.

The day spoke
hush and silent movies.
There may have been a flock of geese,
there may have been an eagle.
There may have been sparrows on the lawn,
there may have been rabbits
who mindfully paired up just inside
the neighbor’s fence.

The day slowed
climb and crescendo.
There may have been too much to listen to,
there may have been a marching band.
There may have been loaded picnic tables,
there may have been families
thinking the old ways were so much better
than all this fuss and nonsense.

The day stopped
clear and motionless.

While waiting for the next breath
something swept across the frequencies
of time and sound, of light and relativity--
a day to fill all days, a diorama,
a shadow-box hung on the walls of our
consciousness.
It was an invitation so rural and plain
we mostly ignored it. We went back to
our everyday, convinced that deity would
be above metaphors of poultry and feathers.

The day was…