Autumn Cheers

 

Autumn Cheers

(“For your loyal love extends beyond the sky, and your faithfulness reaches the clouds.” Psalm 108:4)

Was the air wearing the scent of autumn today,
was the atmosphere dressed just to display the beauty
that dissolves into love?

Was the sky earth-hugging today, full of gray on white,
all business and play? Where the leaves fell
the robins and jays danced while tiny dogs
barked them away.

Night comes early and the light less steep,
the shadows are longer and sharper, our cheeks
blush as creation whispers romance;
lover and beloved sans words, sans precision,
gather the panorama of bonfires and the smokey presence
that follows the wind’s suggestions.

We see. We touch. We breathe. And much is
forgotten. We shiver, we sigh, we leap onto
piles of leaves
and remember the sewn manikins we stuffed
(plaid shirt, blue jeans, knit cap) and placed
in an old wooden chair on the front porch come
October.

It is never over, this canvas that paints our days;
they are never over, these reminders in the sky
that, whisper or wail, release in us upwelling joy
to embrace the caresses of the universe.

Our deepest pleasure is to toast the One who-in-love
composed it all, though are cups are too small,
our wine too common, we still say

Cheers,

and look around in silence while laughter
from the neighbor’s back yard enlivens our
pleasure, and we drink again, including more again
in our circle of mouth stopping wonder.

Why the Quiet

Why the Quiet

(“Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests. But the Son of Man has no place to lay His head.’” Luke 9:58)

There were times I waited all night just for a friend to call,
for someone to open the door to my heart.
There were nights I watched the time move,
a minute, a click, an hour, and the glitches crawled
between hellos and hugs.

Did You ever get lonesome with humanity as your posse?
Did You ever climb the hill to pray at night and wonder
why the quiet
was so full of noise and thunder?

There are days I pose like a model for students,
holding my face serene as they trace its natural wrinkles.
Why won’t they draw the inside? Empty. Full of salt and tears.
Why won’t they put down their brushes and join me
clothed only in sheets? Why do they leave once the class is over,
while I hover wanting just one to return and offer me a home?

Did You ever sigh along the lake watching us scramble for a living?
Did You wonder why the talk of the day never swaddled many
for more than an anomaly’s hour? Is it a flaw in our wiring,
a bug in the crawling measurements we know we cannot attain?

There have been years I never felt a home,
30 days, 54 days, 300 days, and a quatrain that felt like
a desert without rain, a forest without sun, a seeker without
someone

To follow.

Did You ever wonder at my lack of faith?
Did You walk into my thin wooden trophy case,
take inventory, and reconsider your choice?
I’m sorry the achievements are so scarce and
that creation (in your image) scares me somehow.
The northern lights, the soulful eyes, the cinnamon delights,
the chords and harmony, the memorized lines and poetry
are old hat or stale. I search the mail each day for a word
to make me feel at home.

There was a day, maybe two, when following You
was more than alright. And You still enchant me, romance me,
remind me and even confine me in Your love.

But home is elusive. My feet long, not for a mansion,
just for the touch of long distance that reaches deeper than
“I wish.”