Deviled Eggs for Everyone

Deviled Eggs for Everyone

(“He appointed the Twelve, whom he called apostles, to accompany him.” Mark 3:14a)

The laundry hung on the stretched-out line
waiting for the North Dakota wind to flap them dry
like wings swooping from barns and early wheat.
Second thoughts give way to a chance, really,
that this moment was more sacred than hours of
memorized incantations.

The food was set out, the hot dishes first, then
the salads, then desserts. We kept the deviled eggs
out of the sun
and made sure there were enough for everyone,
including the twins who always complained when
they were gone by the time they found their place in line.

The men came in from fishing, the daughters too,
the entire crew said the blessing as they sat on cinder blocks
and folding chairs. The children played pinata.
There was enough to share, there was plenty to spare,
and the eyes of all spoke, and hoped, and wondered how
a place as safe as this
could exist
between amped up patriotism and
acoustic supplications. Everyone had lowered their
flags
for this day. Everyone had stored their banners away.

I met you, but our eyes never locked,
you were of another flock outside our jurisdiction.
We were hearts alike, we were raw like bicycles too
big to ride. But we knew, without seeing at all,
we each needed picnics like all the rest.
We hated crowds, didn’t we,
but loved the caress of breezes that moved children between
the porch and the lawn.

We wished to be vagabonds, hobos with our neckerchief knapsacks,
but we were simply grown-up adolescents who had given up answering
questions every time we were asked. We were craving a
new city where
tears are shed as openly as laughter before birthday cake is served.

The truth is, once reserved, all we had were two things left to us:
love
and
time. We would forsake neither, though we had been forsaken
when our rhymes were so imperfect we spit them out like vinegar.
Today I look again, and hope so will you,
to see the faint rising of a traveling band that
plays the tunes of the divine.