Like Paving Stones

Like Paving Stones

(“The disciples then began to argue about which of them was the greatest.” Luke 9:46)

You’ve laid out arguments like paving stones spaced
so far apart that mud is inevitable. You stood up in front
of dozens
with your toupee tilted toward the side. You took
swipes at ones you deemed dangerous and inconsequential.
You thought you were talking for God and
you couldn’t hear
how your ego was louder than anything that came
out of your head.
You never questioned your certainty and
that is why
your faith was insubstantial. You thought you
were a high-wire act, but we saw the
rusty chains that held you up. We would rather
go for a walk in the sun.
You meant well, but you weren’t on the level.
You dreamed of hundreds following you to heaven.
You imagined what you should have examined,
you measured your life by how many were wowed
by your words.

I read a pageful of numbers, a long stretch of
dimes and dollars. I listened for the crisis others
ignored. I longed for larger spaces between the
stated and the questioned.  You were taller and
several covered their heads as your words shot
out like hailstones without warning.

Let’s sit on the back porch, let’s wait in the sun,
let’s allow the neighbors to speak, let’s quiet ourselves
like babies falling asleep. Let’s listen to their music
though we have never heard it before. There are cadences
we can learn
if we stop our chatter for a while.