We Should Try That Again

We Should Try That Again

(“You, too, are being built up together, in him, into a place where God will live by the spirit.” Ephesians 5:22)

Arms-length can feel like miles away.
I’ve seen too many cornered smiles to
believe anything less than this moment.
Every space you leave between me and another
multiplies by the time it takes to reply.
And so we sit on mudbanks quilted with the
apple blossoms the rains knocked off the trees
the night before.
And we long for velvet instead of hardship,
sanity to replace excused absences from our
place in the circle. You had me on the ropes once;
I cannot allow it to happen again.

I apologize for the shields I’ve built upon the
back of fears. I’m guilty of it all. There is something that
bubbles hot like Yellowstone geysers
every time I remember
the way social lunches erupted into
debates we had no way to adjudicate.
Some people appealed to a higher authority,
but the secretary put them on hold

Indefinitely.

Then there were days, decades previous to those,
when a breeze blew through from the southern skies
and our picnics ended with frisbees and kisses.
Our babies laughed and looked for worms beneath
the gingham tablecloth. The puppies never stopped playing.
The salamanders sunned alongside the stream. I can
remember the faces even if I cannot recall the names.

We should try that again.