Vol 9, Num 23 :: 2010.12.17 — 2010.12.30
How I want to know you
Beyond how they show you —
Standing steadfast in the crèche
Like holy arm candy
Or part of the set.
How I want to pour you a drink
And sit back with you
And hear what you think…
About the waiting,
The seeing,
The raising,
The fleeing.
About how much you understood
Of this married-to-the-mother
Not-quite-fatherhood.
About the first time you touched your wife
And came into the ark you carried,
That tabernacle of flesh you married.
About how he had your eyes
Or not,
About what you taught him
And what you were taught,
About all you felt and saw and did
That went unadorned and unselected,
About how you’re performed
And what you expected,
And when you disappeared from the text
And what you make of all that came next.
Because I, too, have not-quite-owned
And stood beside
And been outshone
And loved a God I’ve not-quite-known.
And I have waited and I have flown
And left the play before the end.
And I think we both might need a friend.
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