Summer Saturdays

On a Michigan farmer Saturday in August, anticipating tomorrow's evangelical Sabbath, When late summer vacations invoked pre-sacred house cleanings more unusually light, Heading outside after lunch into this spectacularly breezy blue billowing discontinuously cumulus cloudy in-between radiant sky blue infinite wonder Into this awesomely long leisurely afternoon becoming one of those special kids sent out to rediscover solitary play while Mom clears HER kitchen to fill our kitchen with impossible fragrance of Sunday dinner rhubarb pie or fresh strawberry shortcake, whipping vanilla or banana cream while boiling sweet yellow corn, baking mac and ancient cheddar cheese for this evening's pre-dusk compline dinner. On this first summer celebrating Saturday of low humidity and temperatures predicting September 70s Out past our red barn and past its barnyard lily pond and into golden stubbled hay fields, sheared sexy contoured face of my temporarily uncloseted gay imaginings hoping for YangGod's sexiest face smiling in sabbath of return Continuing on to private green cool woodland to nakedly climb a favorite tree skin to naked bark, full-bodied embrace of this fabulous shared EarthLife transparent and open and breezy free with God's inclusive hope. Out to play and pray this day and month and vacation and re-creation will never end Or end, if time must continue, in moonlit radiant peace, night dreams of asking into perfect Sabbath.