Like Picnics in the Shade

Like Picnics in the Shade

(“How beautiful is the person who comes over the mountains to bring good news, who announces peace and brings good news, who announces salvation and says to Jerusalem, ‘Your God is King.’” Isaiah 52:7)

The bridge spanned the ford
beneath greening skies.

The feet were beautiful along
the bluing banks.

The sky was descending along the
redding horizon.

The announcement of freedom was a prism full
of promise. Was a leap across the river.
Was a well-timed emancipation. Was a
well of water upon our parched tongues.

We had been disconnected. We were dejected
most days, sunny or haze. We knew the way
home
but the roads were well-guarded.

We started the inward journey as soon as we
understood that
no one could harm us on this way of open meadows.
No one could boast of conquering us like dust.
We were learning that trust looked a lot like
siestas in the sun.

We rejoiced like cranberry sky, strawberry wine,
and honeydew. We held our voices higher than
we had in epochs of time. We heard the message
and sang the words like an anthem of deliverance.
We spoke like we had know for years that we
were no longer captives, though we felt, sooner than
later
that we were imprisoned outside the fault lines
of mediocrity. We heard the news announced like liberty
unrestricted. And we shared it like picnics in the shade.