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.