Now We Are Us

Now We Are Us

(“But when you make a dinner, ask the people who are poor, hurt, lame, or blind.” Luke 14:13)

The places are set,
the invitations were sent weeks ago.
We once were clowns who only hung out
with the circus. But the sun came up like
no other months ago
and we canceled our subscription to the
magazines
that fashioned our disease. We only felt
comfortable with
people like us. We set the places
mindfully,
hoping for new conversations to open
the sky, new songs to answer why we never
thought of this before.

We were awkward at first, finding our words,
slaking our thirst, watching the door for the final
few to find their seats unrehearsed.

We hoped for inspiration, the kind you get when
you climb a mountain higher than the birds fly.
We hoped the air would clear our minds,
the breeze unfreeze our brains from ages of
sitting like mirrors around unstable tables.

We hoped they felt welcome.
We hoped to dispel some of our unconscious
biases lately starting to give us pain.
We hoped we knew their language,
we hoped we spoke of the face value
of beauty all around the plates set out for
anyone who would come.

We were them
once,
now we are us.