Love is Not Bottled

Love is Not Bottled

(“The greatest one among you must be like the youngest, and the leader must be like the servant.” Luke 22:26)

I opened the invitation as soon as it arrived in the mail;
unexpecting any change but only more delays,
I read your proclamations. They were the aroma of rubber
burning up the bridges between neighbors. They were the fire
you called down upon the masses, the enemies you cooked up in your
ghost kitchen
where you kept top secret spices, restricted recipes.
You hoped to tickle our ears with
days of fickle feasts no one attended.

You loved your calculations. You posted every poll that raved
your newest followers. You whistled for the gremlins and acted surprised
when they broke in, broke windows, crashed glass, hunted servants and
cheered between the gallows and a cross. Your flags said Jesus.
Your words said fuck.

I walked two houses down from my quiet bungalow. The
daisies smelled like bath salts; the dogs licked my hands.
I waved at a toddler riding a tiny 4-wheeler with a tiny pink helmet
as her crown. I waved again. She looked. I waved once more. She smiled.

The neighbor boy became a teenager today. He loves my feisty chihuahua.
My second grandchild was born yesterday. He already knows my name.
(Or so it should be, world without end, amen.) The mom is my daughter,
the dad her husband who can’t believe he has a new best friend the
size of a cantaloupe. Love does not decrease the more we give. Love is
not finite. Yet we store it in pickling jars and put it in vegetable basements
along with the wine we made from last year’s dandelions.
But love is not bottled. Love is not demanded. Love is never drought or
famine or threadbare or loyal to geography or sports teams. It is

Yes. It. Is.

It is the story every human has told, and every other human desires. Love is
laying down my pistol, my rifle, my cannon, my tablets with rules written in stone.
And love is a child, a 24 hour one, a 6 pound one, a hungry one, who reminds us

Why we keep begging anger and handguns to stay outside before coming to voice
their opinion at
the next board meeting.