Could There Be a Portal?

 Could There Be a Portal?

(“He is able to deal gently with those who are ignorant and going astray, since he himself is also weak in many ways.” Hebrews 5:2)

Could there be a portal,
a black hole framed with teak or ivory
that would take my thoughts directly to you?
I know I am weak in so many ways,
I know my words get scrambled worse that hurricane waves.
I know, because I talk so much, that the words can combine
to mean most anything.

Could there be a machine,
a blue-tooth thing,
that would transport my heart to yours?
Could it help you feel what I feel,
even if you think I shouldn’t feel that way in
a hundred years?
I want to hear your heart, and I want to feel your fears,
I want to know what is behind the words that
suddenly steered the voyage in a new direction,
or at least a different speed limit.

Oh, if you knew my words, understood them, definition and
implication, and still closed the door just a bit tighter,
I would stay outside until I knew if you would change your mind.

But, if my words, misunderstood, undefined and simplified,
entered your beloved psyche, I would wait forever in hope.
I would not knock on the door, or ring your bell,
but I would tell you where you could find me when the
words finally rang true, rang in tunes we both could hear.

You’ve asked me about my past, and I would tell you.
But I do not want to belittle anyone else who may have been
a part of my story. Can we leave it at this: I am ashamed of
wrong turns I took on several roads. I am weak in many ways.

I know your heart, without a portal or black hole,
that you are sometimes frightened, but always loving.
I hope, if we need a portal, you will find me weak (yes, so weak)
but good.

It is my turn to open the door wide, even if yours is closed a bit,
and invite you to sit before the hearth that is always lit with
warm fireglow, the grace of love learned in sand and grit.
I will not hide the cracks along the walls, although I do sometimes
still feel shame. But they are part of me, the places that earthquakes
took almost everything.
I would serve you tea, or iced coffee, I would read your favorite book
or listen to your silence. But my door would never close, the locks
were thrown away long ago.

If I could show you the future, this is what it would be.
Two friends who cannot wait to share the mornings together,
the direction of the wind, the slant of the sun,
two friends who have beaten the odds and are closer
than anyone deserves to be.
Two friends, unafraid, weak, sometimes shaken,
but ever carrying two hearts as one when one heart is
too heavy to bear.