Pathways Converge

Pathways Converge

(“Don’t withhold good from someone who deserves it, when it is in your power to do so.” Proverbs 3:27)

Help me learn the language, help me
hear the sounds that mean another soul
could be seen if only I opened my eyes.
One song fades as another one begins,
pathways converge and we are brought together again.
I know you never liked what he did,
you know he wished he never had.
He knows every shattered choice he hoped
would fadeout like the ending of a radio song.
He felt like he was stuck in adolescence,
like he was still trying out for the football team.
He would paint his eyes a different color if
only that would change his view of things.

Help me discover the buried treasure, help me
correct the judgments that make me close my hands tight.
I have done worse, I think, than he thinks he has done.
I would buy him dinner, I would share a drink with him.
I would convince him nothing he did would prevent
me from being his friend.
I would not publish a single sentence he said.
I’d give him my heart as a receptacle for him
to place every shivering thought. I’d ask the
only questions that matter, questions of hope and
none of the statements that would shatter the
aging walls of his tears.

Help me learn his language, help me listen,
help me give what I’ve been given. Help me
receive his fearful confidence. Help me see it
through his eyes.