There’s a lesson in there

There’s a lesson in there

Oh Winter

There’s a lesson in there

There’s a lesson in there

Oh Night

There’s a lesson in the stick-with-it-ness

I guess

I suppose

But do you stick with the one

Who has undoubtedly

Unstuck himself from you

Would that be faithfulness

Or dereliction?

Would that be faithfulness

Or proof that you are a weasel?

But of the lesson I am sure

Itty bitty children think

What a great story

I love fairy tales

But grown-up grown-ups know

There’s a lesson in there

The bite came

When people were

Talking behind my back

And it surprised me

And embarrassed me

Because isn’t that typical

I always thought

That I was the type

Who would handle

The pathetic gossip’s tongue

Better than I did

But it froze me solid

In an instant

Because, I think

It was so ridiculously untrue

A calculated and illogical untruth

Yet it had legs

And they ran far

And for a very brief moment

I thought, “Am I? Did I?”

Buy of course not

Because common sense

Is a winning zinger

Like glitter on

An exclamation point

And I must say

I lost my love for music

Right there

And I could not flip it

With that bit of lies

The songwriter died

And he limps along still

Like a one-legged spider

All because

You wanted to say

Somethin’ juicy

That was the day

The bite came

To my soul.

You knew you had them eating

Out of the palm of your hand

And it was a joy to watch

As you rang the dinner bell

For the sweet treat of wise words

That rolled like a river

From the mouth of a matriarch

With the voice of years

And the experience of a troubadour

No one else could have clicked or clacked

It was your song to sing

And you ponied up to the punchline

Like a town cryer

With war-ending news

Oh what a moment

And I’m giddy

Because I got to see

You at your knowing best

Saying what

I never could have said

You really tried

Something I say to you

That most species

Can’t say to each other

A joy of being human

See I can say it

Because I saw

You lean into my lane

You stretched into my sea

And stress

If there was any

Seemed minimal

Even flat

And watching you swim

I think

Was more uncomfortable

For me

Than it seemed

To be for you

And I wonder

Who was

The most surprised

That it didn’t

Seem to hurt

In the least

Little bit

How many doors

Were you patient

Through

And why

Do you know

I make it

In the end

Brush step

Brush step step

It’s not like that

Is it

No

For everything

Is ever

Epic and enduring

Bigger and farther

Than I could

Ever know

So let me

Pick at the

Pick at the

Pick at the

Paint peeling

On the wall

Cause underneath

There’s a whole

New color

And I hope for

A thousand

New beliefs

To engage me

And brighten

It’s like a hot day

Unbearably hot

So hot sweat quits

So hot you shiver

And you feel the rays beat you

And you know you could die

If perhaps it were another time

Free from all that now protects us

That’s what it’s like to touch the altar

Not because you longed for it

Not because you put your finger on a need

Not because it ever occurred to you

But because a call came

That was painful, loud, clear

That was unmistakable, unavoidable

A call that would absolutely kill you

Or at the very least cripple you

If you didn’t answer

If you didn’t touch the altar

It’s like a hot day

Unbearably hot

There’s a coming thunder

And I hate hitchhiking

Under that overpass

Where the homeless live

At least in my mind

And I suppose I always know

That a wind’s gonna come

But that night I was not ready

And wonder if I am today

Because a sloth is living

A slumber is besetting

And I can’t lift my arms

My limbs are heavy

And my mind is slow

So I’ll drown in that watery grave

In a million ways

If I don’t go to a far off place

To be with my Father

When God our Savior revealed

The memory of abuse

I fell like a stone

But into a hammock held by stars

Because it was something I had to see

I had to see the nail hole

Before he could fill it

And He did

Almost immediately

And even thought it was quite like lava

It was necessary

I don’t like you

And he sent a distant

Friend to tell me that

I did not have to like you

I just had to serve you

And die for you

And that is easier

In the long run

To do a kindness

As to a stranger

So I will love

I would mop up this cheer if I could

And there’s a lot of it

I know it doesn’t seem like there’s all that much

The poems don’t always show the crow’s feet

But I’m happy as a wild mountain stream, it’s true

I wasn’t even home when that wall was painted

I wasn’t even around when this house was built

It’s so much more than I ever thought I would own

I have the ability to be pleased with so much less

So it’s not hard for me to be content

With what I would leave in a moment

If a call came to plant flowers elsewhere

I know nothing about roots, about tradition

I know nothing about home, or settling down

So, one million snap shots does suffice for life

And I honestly do love every single one

I fancy you as someone

Who has a drawer full of suicide notes

Perhaps hundreds, alphabetized

By the last name of the one you blame

For that last season of woah

Just in case, every single one

Because there is a fear

That if you ever actually set things up

To puff that last breath

That you might be at a loss

Just before, unable

To pull your thoughts together

But people would need to know

Or rather you would have to tell them

Because you can’t carry that to your grave

Well, at least you can’t

Because you really have this idea

That a well-written suicide note

Would keep the world spinnin’

Around and around and around you

Even after death