Facedown in Moonlight

 

Facedown in Moonlight

(“And Hezekiah and all the people rejoiced because God had provided for the people, for the thing came about suddenly.” 2 Chronicles 29:36)

You could make me a king, or
nothing at all.
It is so sudden and unexpected:
the river overflowing its banks,
the sun washing the hills,
the castles crumbling like mud,
the rifles melting and the clouds arranging
the shadows like flocks of lion and sheep.
Will it be an imposition on some?
Will jobs be lost at the local brick and mortar
where bullets are dispensed
like medicine?
Will you ache for your place in the factory
mass-producing every remedy and selling your
quackery?
You could lie facedown in moonlight
and still
the golden rays would find you,
if only to remind you that you cannot
cut the cords
to the life that fills the transitions between
sacred songs and
backyard barbecues.
Whistle for the neighborhood dogs who
are convinced the entire block belongs to them.
Ring for the wounded,
call up the oppressor,
mow down the weeds that choked the rain
right out of the garden.
One drop lands and the dust expands just
an inch above the toe-line. Another glances off
the forehead of a toddler playing in the sand.
You could make me the mayor,
you could make me dessert,
you could be on your best behavior,
you could sound the alert like
church bells
that reckon time by the hours, the
chimes
that pray away the barbed wire we put up
against imagined defenses.

You could make me sing just
by relying on friendship one more
time again.