Look to the Margins

Look to the Margins

(“Then a Samaritan man traveled down that road. He came to the place where the hurt man was lying. He saw the man and felt very sorry for him.” Luke 10:33)

Look to the margins,
take the drive to the edge of town,
find the strangers just behind the fences.
You know their names because
they have visited in your dreams.
Write them down next time,
bring them around next time you
grill steaks for the neighborhood.

The ecclesiastical tornados blow right
past the bloody messes left behind
by unfortunate destinations. The professionals
are keeping score, they tick each item off their list,
and having finished for the day find another way home.

Let them sojourn. We can take the drive
to the edge of town and put a few friends in
the back of the pickup truck.
Let them settle. Learn their names, and their children’s,
and their pets’. Learn the way their eyes ask
only for sanity, only for cold water, only for
an escape from the rain.

You used to play in the mud in front of your
suburban house with the lime-green porch.
You used to know everyone’s name that
waved from the sidewalk, every neighbor whose
child was just looking for a friend.
You used to hope that the popular ones would take
you in
to their treehouse, their club house, their secret pledges
made with bandanas around their necks.

Look to the edges,
just outside your peripheral vision. Take the journey
around the alleys behind the restaurants in the middle of town.
Some can’t afford the trip at all. Some would rather walk
than be caught riding the rusting bike they’ve had since
last Christmas.

Expand your boundaries, now that you know you have them.
You’ve seen their skin baked by the sun.
You’ve seen their loves hidden behind pulpit blinds.
You’ve heard their muffled cries. All they want is
to be welcome in your home.