The Morning Broke Loudly

The Morning Broke Loudly

(“They are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” Romans 3:24)

I know the morning broke loudly across your consciousness,
I know the outcome pushed upon your chest like a trunk of pennies.
You expected better,
you hoped for something different than the same lines to the
same songs
over and over again.
I know you wanted to wake up this morning like summer.
I know you wanted to have a drink with your friends and celebrate.
You dreamed of so much better,
you yearned for the very thing that would give new words to the
same old songs
you enjoyed when you were young.

But the sun broke through the gray today,
the dogs chased each other and played in the field.
The promise felt like a fainting scarecrow,
I know,
I felt the fatigue too, sucking the last drop
of enthusiasm from the day.
But the sun still shone like summer,
the trees were letting go all around me
creating a carpet of seeds and leaves, heart-shaped leaves,
and the breaths we take are as full as they were
yesterday at this time.

I know the breezes are cooler this time of year,
I know the rain sometimes announces itself before the deluge.
You expected rainbows,
you hoped for the injustice in the world would never
consume the light you felt in your soul. So,
rainbow or no,
you knew the day would be hard. You knew the canyon
was narrow and shafts of light briefly played upon your brow.

I know you wanted to see this day brighter,
I know you wanted to dance like a playful fawn.
Instead you walked over the dew-drenched yard,
took the letters out of the mailbox
and went back indoors, sat on the couch and wondered
what would come of all of this.

Like Treasure

Like Treasure

("The kingdom of heaven is like treasure that was hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again. He was very happy. So he went and sold everything he had. And he bought that field.” Matthew 13:44)

Never expecting a muddy day; sun across every field
burned the fog and left the dirt crusty above the tangle of roots below.
I wore my black loafers and navy dockers,
walking sidewalk straight, hearing the crazy blackbirds
pretend to threaten, the faint frogs attempting their songs,
and the wide river a slow bass legato run.

Across the field, one third of the way in, was a mound,
just an emergence of soil, not enough to cast a shadow,
not enough to catch my eye, except today.
For sounds and sights, time and place, this day,
without reason other than my meandered pace,
I noticed what I would not, what anyone would not,
notice any other day.

I kicked off the cracked mud opening from the top
that spidered down from middle to bottom, not suspecting
a find,
just a lump to kick the time away.

So as I scraped my second foot over the late-day clay,
a wink from the dark caught my eye. I had been fooled before,
a child of 7 or 10, when the same reflection revealed only
a broken neck of a dr. pepper bottle.

I reached inside the dark, careful not to slice my fingers on
someone’s busted drink, and blue! Or violet! Or jade or emerald!
Oh joy; the colors would not be defined! Within my hand it was
cold and warm to my eyes.

The sun stopped shining, the field disappeared, and the afternoon
once lively now existed no more! There was only a moment full of all,
a day pregnant with every, and a gem too heavy to have weight or any.

Within a week I sold all I could see, rented the rest and bought that field
in spite of myself. My slices of five out of seven flew beyond the dawn

And the price I paid, in spite of myself, never matched the radiance,
the laser, the fluorescent, the flame and the spray of the never-changing
gem, though it seems, the colors are clearer with the day. And lately

After decades of wander, full knowing my foolish transaction,
there is nothing more precious, even on days of hunger,
than the beauty I found caked with earth’s transitions.