Front Porches and Fire Pits

Front Porches and Fire Pits

(“May mercy and peace and love be multiplied to you.” Jude 1:2)

The negotiations nearly ceased when the
bands battled aimlessly. They played in different keys
and ragged tempos while we listened from opposite
sides of the park.
Gazebo against gazebo,
they played like the day would never end.
Our ears heard multitudes clashing. Those unused
tunes wiggled like earthworms below our feet.
No one planned it,
this disconcerting entertainment. It was merely the
result of too many musicians and not enough direction.

Thunderclouds had been building to the west all afternoon,
And when the lightning took us all by surprise the thunder
sounded out from one end of the day to the next.
It realigned our unrehearsed ragas and turned our attention
toward the rhythm the rain made as it hit the ground.
We had heard there were fires in the grassland and flash floods
in the hills. We counted out the time now, one and two and
three and four. We let the fancy trills and turnarounds go
for the simpler melodies of folks making it all up on
front porches and around fire pits. We put our instruments away
and merely sang. One word, two words, a break,
two words and then three.

We made up songs that sounded like they had been in the
back catalogue for ages. We learned them on the spot and
discovered we knew more than we thought.

We had been afraid that the discord we heard would
divide the afternoon from the giggles of children we were
used to hearing. We began sharing our apprehensions
across fences and learned there was so much more
we could say. We spoke and waved and tried our
concerted passages anyway.

We passed the lyrics on to our progeny.