Susan LaffertyIn the realm of heart and soul,
You ask for all.
Hands open,
I give the
fragmented,
flawed,
incomplete all
that I know.
You receive.
Tenderly. Welcoming
broken parts,
scattered pieces
of a repentant,
believing
heart.
You save the sin-sick soul.
Refuge. In the tropical afternoons of my childhood.
I’m sitting on soft dirt. Amid twisted roots. Under a canopy of thick, intertwined bougainvillea branches growing by the backyard fence.
Shelter. From unrelenting sun.
Shade. For afternoon play with plastic teacups and bowls. A plentiful supply of leaves and blossoms within reach.
The secret place where I can rest. And just be.
Over the holidays, we watch old movies together.
“Wait for it….”
Expecting the coming punchline. Dialogue already in our heads. And on our lips. Story summoning memory.
We anticipate what we’ve already seen.
