"Lamp Post Precinct," or "The Now And The Heartache," or "The Reach," or perhaps, "Just a Story of a Woman, a Man and a Delicious Savior."

~)o(~




I encountered my past in a rose lit room, in a curtained foyeur, in a coffee shop, in a kitten chewing my fingers. I encountered my past in the salty street whyle on my knees to change her tire, in the familiar smell of old friends, the taste of older things brewing hot like coal on my tongue.

It's hard to express just what kind of confusion comes, even after years have passed between the Now and the Heartache, when you come back around to things like this.

Girls.
Dude.

anyway, with failure tried, i end up passing through old freeways and rolling country like drawing memories, rivers wrapping under steady bridges to hold the old town in a water cradle. Not quite Trembling this time with foot and pedal dancing, map disconnect the parents and the pronunciation handed down from fathers unearthly, and undetered headlights breach the ocean freeway flowing like tide beneath my tires. The deep winter stars roll tranquil like a dark hand with glowing pores laid across my blue winter eyes. Road wraps the backlit hills and ribbon is the ocean stringing me along on the tide. Doors found their way, though lost, i'd not to remain.

I'd not remain any longer without the try for forgiveness, the reach. The reach for to be reconciled. The oldest reach that spans the millenia, across pages and generations, it trys for our mangled hearts, intent to mend, and with eyes desperately searching files labeled "Me," it makes a noise like a tested sigh, air swishing from skyward teeth that has it's way in making me go down to the come-on-down river. Won't you come on down, oh wonderous dream-breakers? Oh, fantastic heart-achers? Wont you wash this time in the Jordan like I've asked time and again? Wont you make yourself drown in the swirling tide of the freeway to find your dying eyes seeing? Unlock that door and step out into the drifting waters at seventy miles an hour, rolling in the drawing helplessness of loosing control...


Oh, wont you lose control? Wont you come on down? Wont you unbuckle your safetynet and step from the drivers seat this time?

Just swing out over the edge like there's a soft floor to land on and let yourself fly free out over the air. And dont worry about seeing her face again, even after all these years, because you are found in me.

Not lost in her.


It's You that brought me to their house, it's you that urged me through Sarah's familiar voice to take this girl aside and try to set things right again. Just do it. Ask for forgiveness for my selfish apetite, the Unending Dream of Romance that has gone unquenched till now for so long. There's quenchingness in his satisfaction. It's true that i miss being loved like... like water turned to wine. Like hope.

But i give up my control willingly, like a candle that i blew out one winter christmas evening. How the wax spilled like my hot tears on the table. But still, even though my nerves were quaking like a box of oldest times cereal, I sat in her room across from her there and wondered aloud along with her if there was things that make her think, if there were things that move and breathe, if things here and there on occasion make sense and If Jesus Is REaL... I believe that room was filled with blood. I believe whole heartedly.

"What happened." I'm not even sure what to call it. We never really dated. We..

Just loved.

But "Just loved" has it's own untruthfullness glowing like a truth in the red lit-curtained room.

And since this yesterday, I've been wodnering if any of it was important, feeling like it was all a mistake, and tearing apart what i should have said, when the real is that i did just what he wanted me to. We laughed and connected like friends learning to trust again.

Oh, Lord, may you forgive us for being so blind, may you forgive us for being lost in fake love, may you forgive us for everything. May you find unity and growth, health and vibrant love when you make your home here with us on this earth. May you find your Kingdom has come ahead of your drought-ending parade, the solution to the mystery, oh Rabbi, and the tome of life that grows like trees just because you love.

May we all die good deaths before we taste the last heartbeat of our souls. May we all die. Turn us, water, into wine




and drink deep of your children







_____~