Would you mind if I buttered you up some?
All the evidence points to you not minding at all.
You made the whole world, after all, and that’s
a heck of a confidence booster. I tried to make
a world once and the ocean washed it away.
You made the ocean too, didn’t you? What
can’t you do? Nothing, I bet. You’re the ultimate
Omni. I bend my knee to You at exactly the
right moment. Words of praise leap off my tongue
my tongue that You made. You made, everything
I touch and smell and see. You made everything
they tell me exists but my eyes are too human
to see. The earth, the stars, whatever sits beyond
the stars. It’s all You. It’s always been You.
I remember it all like it was yesterday.
Like my own eyes witnessed it. The smell of
the garden. The rib you took. I can still feel it missing.
The forty days of water. The joy of the olive branch.
The birthday parties of our first family. The promise
You made them. I keep counting grains of sand and
applying one to each of my never ending supply of
relatives. The vacation in Egypt. The free trip home,
all inclusive, with a never-ending buffet falling from the sky.
Your lenience when other options were considered.
I could tell you what I was wearing on every single
one of these days. And so can my children, and
their children. This is for good.
Keep the windows shut…thunder and lightening
are coming, and in a cloud of smoke, All will be revealed.
The drum and bass. The broken sound. This repeated
rhythm showing up at all the highlights. When he spoke,
when we got that, when the banners were raised, when
offensive swords appeared on the horizon. Do not adjust
your radios, this is the soundtrack of your life. You’ll hear
it at your Quinceañera. They’ll put it on when you take
your S.A.T. At your wedding? That’s a given. This is
the Jazz funeral you’ve been waiting for. The coronation.
The big big trumpet, letting us know we’re taken
care of. We’re gonna be okay.