My Friend
My friend, we come from different families
With one Father –
Families whose rhythm,
And whose music,
Differs as widely
As the way
We open Christmas presents
Or
Dye our Easter eggs.
My friend, I love you
Magnetically drawn into
That love by a singular
Voice
Raised upon a blood stained hill
In a tiny land of promise –
Challenged
To see past the doors
Of your family home,
And your treasured melodies,
To look into
Your heart,
To hear the singular voice
Calling you
As it calls me
To live beneath the eyes
Of Heaven.
My friend, this love calls us
To ignore
The suspicion of too many decades passed
To count
When we peeked through colored windows,
Peering into other family
Celebrations
Wondering of the brightly colored
Banners –
The sometimes strange and somber
Robes –
To laugh or rudely point
At what we failed
To understand.
My friend, I love you
And your family
Even more than when I began
These simple lines
And ask forgiveness
For hurting words
Hurled
Across the centuries,
For actions demonstrated,
Even yesterday,
That gave you pain
Causing your family
To draw a tighter circle
Around themselves
While crying out from the darkness
“Don’t you see?
We are like you
In so many ways.”
My friend, I ask love
Born after rejection
And pain –
Love to go beyond
Existing as nieces,
Nephews,
Cousins
To embrace the eternal prayer
Of Our Father,
Who longs for us,
Who begs us live
By Heaven’s standards
For our beleaguered families,
Knowing our words may still not agree
But draws us into life
Through Calvary.
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