So The Colors Ran

So The Colors Ran

(“Examine yourselves to see if your faith is genuine. Test yourselves. Surely you know that Jesus Christ is among you; if not, you have failed the test of genuine faith.” 2 Corinthians 13:5

I ran out of time to paint so the
colors ran like the snow, landing between the
trim and the foundation,
while I took a break to search for my soul.
I hadn’t lost it,
it had not vanished,
I just had misplace it while
I listened to the barking jokers
who decided, with no input of my own,
exactly what design I should be applying to
the front wall of my own home.

If someone will fetch me a glass of ice water
I’ll tell you why this west-facing wall is so important.
The first thing you see from the street, this wall
needs to be (almost unconsciously) a true portrait of me.

I took everything to heart for so long that my mind
fell apart
when I repainted paisleys over yesterday’s diamonds.
I swear I used a dozen colors based on the latest
expert opinion about what would catch people’s eyes.

Every time I applied one coat to my liking and then
an overcoat
made in the likeness of others who had so much more
expertise than me. I questioned every time my brush
hit the can.

This time the voices are muted. I swear they still ring
in my mind 50 years later and a thousand miles away.
This time I will paint what I see,
I will circle the windows like springtime cocoons,
and trim the door to appear open all the time.
This time I will paint what I know,
even though it may not grow the way I intended.
This time I may meander outside the lines, I may
hide the Name beneath the sill, just small enough to
read up close,
but not from the road.

Upside-Down Echoes

Upside-Down Echoes

(“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9a)

Where are the words that paint as lovely as
midnight blue? Where are they that describe
the corner the young warrior sits in thinking
she will never get the chance to make up for the
losses she faced?

Not everyone signs up to fight. Failing is so much
quicker than winning. But once you’ve lost, the
rope clenches your brain, suspends your hopes,
and convinces you it will all happen again.

There are notes written on each snowflake
lightly falling like white autumn leaves.
It is cold there in the corner, it is lonesome and
unavoidable.

If you’ll allow, I’ll climb in the corner with you,
we can count to three while we rehearse our losses,
our bottomless ability to flee from nothing.
Did you bring your ammunition? Let’s disarm
ourselves
from the echo that reverbs, wall to wall,
and turns us upside down.

I know you have a voice, you have a word,
you have a sentence, you have a book.
Are you afraid you’ve betrayed your oath?
Are you sitting here while we both rehearse
our failures?

I’ll see in you if you’ll see in me
just one more win than we have losses.