I’ve been camping out on the sermon’s mount
With teachings as old as the hills
The preacher-man and his strange commands
Are enough to give me the chills
But the hungry hikers and washed out bikers
Are given a place at his fire
And to the pure-hearted grace is imparted
To behold what they desire
~lg
Wild roses bloom in June
When the car windows are wide open
They are the fragrance of the highway
They hold the hidden joy of the forest
Within five smooth fingers
Wild roses are beautiful in June
When the sun shines on us all night
And the pelicans return to the river
And the world returns to warmth
Caressed by five smooth fingers
Wild roses beckon in June
But hold me at a distance with thorns
To gather their nectar is to bleed
Love them loosely or they will wilt
In five clenched fingers
~lg
In a misty dream I saw your face
Tears blur the lines of distinction between fact and myth
And for a moment I hover, suspended between the firmaments
Then a river of salt washes to the wide, wide sea
And I go with it
We all have islands you know
And there are some waters which can never be crossed
I will set my feet down firmly on red earth
We are humans after all
. . .
~lg
Abraham, I’m glad I can tell you my secrets. (The trees may have ears out here, but they are always discrete.) This ancient path is perfect for sorting them out, sorting me out. I guess I want to say thanks for putting up with a straggler like me. I think I’m learning the way. I think I can make out the contours in the earth now. I think I’m learning what to take with me and what to leave behind. All my tears have evaporated, leaving tiny pillars of salt to remind me not to look back.
~lg
Hey Abraham, would you give me a hand with these cardboard boxes? I never knew so much stuff could come out of one little tent. I don’t really want to talk about leaving yet, so let’s just keep busy. Just stuff those blessings in with that pile of promises over there. If you get tired, we’ll take a nap under the tamarisk tree you planted. It’s big enough now to provide shade for two. Maybe God will whisper in our dreams. Isn’t that just like Him?
~lg