When Love Rides In Like The Calvary

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When Love Rides In Like The Calvary

Saturday afternoon in the Sixties there were still
The Lone Ranger re-runs running across the boob tube
Mother’s term of endearment stuck

And cowboy shows that show a world far away from the South in
1960 something

It doesn’t take long

For an image to sear
Burn like a hot-iron brand on a cow’s hide

Marked by the rancher, for life

This image of a calvacade of salvation coming right at you
Through the cross-hairs, intending to rescue you by overtaking you
Knocking you right out the saddle
Ambushing your soul
Coming out from behind the hedge of cacti
Guns ablazin’
Both barrells loaded oh,
Yeah and locked

The men in white win you over by a show of force

The names have been changed, and more, to protect the guilty

Those who surprised you with love

Who was that masked man? You ask, knowing full well they were women

And they loved you so very well

High, ho Silver

Golden, these girls.

Branding you with a mark of love for life. This is the body of Christ.

Take, eat, remember.

Away.

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Today I Say Goodbye

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Today I Say Goodbye

In the hours before, I rehearse the dialogue
My monologue
Of how many tears we will hoard
Or how freely we will release the goodbye’s
What speed and pace and length will the salutation be

I know nothing of any of this
This path that we will walk
Only that it is you
Your countenance
Soul-filled redemptive beauty
Which I will miss

Circling the globe in search of words
To tell the stories of unfurled beauty
Marked by redeeming acts
Stamped with mercy’s seal

Two paths crossed like a jet stream’s tail
Go in peace to love and serve

Today I say goodbye
Today someone else receives the gift of a new hello

Oh, the way of the cross
The mystery of His love

I have practiced good bye a hundred times
Watch me
I still weep
Redemption’s beauty
Has come and gone and will come again
World without end
Amen

Peace of the Lord be always with you
Our soup is getting cold
One check, please
And also with you

The Time I Lived Vicariously

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The Time I Lived Vicariously

While watching a gray and feathered flock

Brown pelicans sunning in November on the dock

And entered into community from my place

Of solitude

And thought of you

You duplicate my life

And make it two

One of here and one of there

Not duplicitous am I

But honest in my telling that you give me more

I hear your words echo from the Frio

And beyond

From the high places

You were called

I was not

God is good to give us lives

Multiplied in two’s and mores

The time I lived vicariously

Was one of those

You spoke to me while I was, yet

Not there, not haunted by the singleness of one

But tethered by the Spirit

To you

Canyons echo, multiply

Community, sacred echoes I have heard

Sacred echoes I have found

Joining Laura and Kelli

Ode To A Two Hour Lunch

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Tell me how it is
And why it is
That we ever arrived at
The drive-by lunch
Through windows for ordering
Past windows for grabbing
In lines and by speakers
And change dropped and left
At the last window on the
Left
Always

Tell me how we ever evolved
To a primitive way of eating
In our laps and on the run
Chewing
At the red light
Swallowing whole halves of
Meals
Not taking sodium laden small
Bites of
Food
And is it still even food
At all

Come with me and sit
Then linger
With napkins and conversation
Raise your cup to your
Lips between words of
Living life
Sip
Cool water wiggling between
Cubes of ice and wedges of lemon
Sliced thin where yellow fades
To ombre shades
Of citrus, pale to bright
The rind a reminder
To live on the outer edges
Of civilized dining
Not on the thin line of
Fast and furious
A dollar and sofa change
Does not a real meal buy

Laugh between bites
And nod your head
Hear and listen, listen and respond
With words
Lick your tongue along
The rim of your salty
Mouth and retrieve the remnants
Of seasoned scallops seared
Cut slow in quarters
With a knife and fork
If you remember
How
And pause
Before you place the tip of a wedge
Of pineapple
Sweet and pungent
Juice runs
Between your teeth
And gums
And you squeeze and suck
Every bit of juice
From this golden yellow
Fresh fruit
Swallow, breathe and speak
Of the book
You are reading and the one
Lying in wait
And the one due any day from
Amazon
And the one you are writing
And the one about which you are
Still dreaming
And you pause
And breathe
And choose between greens
And another sip of soup

This is communing
This is a feast
This is your living breathing
Ode to slow

While you listen to her tell
You a story
Or two or more
As you linger and beg
The waitress to kick you out
If you have stayed past closing time
Which you have
But there is grace and you
Are welcome here
Where lunch and life
Are slow
And you are surrounded by those
Who know the art
Of

A two hour lunch
Oh that we would
Slow
Down

The bowed head
The table and chairs
The knife and fork
These
Symbols of a life
Slowed

An ode
To a two hour lunch

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Joining the folks at Tweetspeak Poetry as we explore the “Ode