May Nine, 2010

Thirty-seven, grown, Bones
stands in an afternoon's
cool sunlight smoking, reflecting;
remembering while calloused toes
kick dust idly into the air...

At fifteen, enraged by human fickleness
which left him without family, faithless
and wandering since - enraged
by universal chances robbing
him of a body, angry at the world
and all things therein -
he went to church.

Intentionally disrespecting
those loving him, Bones
drove a chair plastered with stickers
profaning life, profaning God.
And parking in his place
behind the choir, exposing all
to his derision, he waited.
He waited for one
to give the excuse he wanted,
needed, to hate them all
one more day.

A thousand candle flames danced
to chant and to censor, burnt offerings
of flame and smoke and word -
a religion he had grown to hate
through blame - a man, incensed
with his lack of sensitivity, approached
from behind; tore a sticker from chair.

Justification, excuse obtained,
Bones screamed through the great oak
double double doors, Russian, Greek,
English chanting following; Rage
departed the vestibule. So fast, so
furious did he fly, the chair lept
three brick steps normally wrestled
up, down.

And the man? The one outraged
by stickers? Right behind Bones
intent on delivering a lecture of etiquette,
of behaviors and appropriate
politenessess.

This parade of fifteen year-old Fury
and middle-aged Indignation?
Pursued by Love. Landing on bricks,
wheels spinning madly for grip,
man reaching for chair, boy,
ready to unleash his words - Love
halted him.

And Bones left self-righteous Indignation
alone to face the wrath of Love
in that day's sunlight twenty-two years
ago.

Those words of Love have chased
after him to be recalled by chance, by time
in another afternoon's sun;

"How dare you? That is my son -
I, not you, will discipline him as I,
not you, see fit."

Thirty-seven, grown, Bones -
smoking in the cool sunlight
a world,
and a lifetime later,
is randomly reminded
by the same rages
of the same universal chances
which stole Love forever.

Kicking dust
with calloused toes
that Love
now calls home,
whispers "Happy
Mother's Day."

_{(For KKV, and all Mothers :: 05-09-2010)}