Would You Walk with Me?

Would You Walk with Me?

(“The Son of Man came, and he ate and drank, and you said, ‘Look at this man! He is a glutton and wine drinker, a friend of tax collectors and other outcasts!’” Luke 7:34)

Would you walk with me along the field where the
yellow daffodils form the border between tree lines
and grass? Did you see this day coming, did you wonder
if the rain would last?

Would you come if I invited you to
a table with common food? Would you let me
fill your glass with wine,
would you be happy with spaghetti and a
slice of bread?

I remember how the bougainvillea climbed the
patio sticks holding up the roof and
made it feel like Hawaii when we danced to the
listing moon.

We were too young for alcohol, too old for
musical chairs;
we were testing the boundaries, we were
choosing up couples and pairs on an
early adolescent summer’s eve.
We waited until the night was over to
dance with the one we had danced with
in our heads. We could not believe it when
she said,
“yes.”

I have to admit these days are split between
wishing to have someone who tells me all their wishes,
and sitting alone watching the news on tv.
I’d rather play in the band than practice
a few moves alone before the black and blueness of
the night wrapped it up for us.

The field will still be here in the morning,
the path winding past the cattle and geese,
and I would extend my invitation and wait
on the corner for a chance to speak with you
about the questions along these streets.

Anyone who will tell me their story has
already won my heart,
crossed the path from unknown to spatial
and relieved my discontent.

I’d love your company, but I fear the conversation
that leaves me speechless when you ask me
what I want.

Like a Night Uncovered

Like a Night Uncovered

(“But Jesus still did not reply. Pilate was amazed.” Mark 15:5)

There is a silence where weariness can
find its rest,
a confidence that envelops everything the
mind cannot digest.
The words are too heavy to lift,
the incense replaces trials and tests
like classical guitar, like a night uncovered,
like a celebrity sitting in the corner with
a shoebox covering his head.

Would it change if we were recognized,
or would conversation disguise our fears,
would answers come too quickly, would our
quick defense give us away?

I cannot see them between their paragraphs,
their citations and accusations tipped their hand
long ago.
They thought persuasion was what made me speechless.
It was their hubris instead.

There is an island where everyone can
breathe again,
A place in the sun that shines between
molecules of green and coconut palms.
A dozen sit on the golden sand telling
their stories unabandoned. There are no
juries or clinical trials, only beautiful eyes that
weep at joyful chapters as well as sad.

Let me rest my soul in your silence,
let my face finally relax.
I would memorize this moment forever,
I would pray you help it last. Let me
memorize the unworded countenance,
captivate me with the rhythm of your heartbeat
and steps.