Ode to my sister, the middle one, who assembles all.

On her birthday.

Come, come,

lost and lonely, bleeding souls,

to the meeting place

of warm, breathing stone

our altar

between the cold skies and this hot earth.

Come to the glowing horizon

on which we stand, together,

little flickering candles in the wind,

and pray at the end of the day

and in the morn, watch the sun

rise and give our praise

to Him who calls us

here, to the meeting place.

Come, come, with all you have

the good, the bad, the brave, the lowly, too, just come, come all.

Come, come, sit and eat, brother, sister, stranger, too,

eat this bread, the warm, broken bread

broken for you, broken souls.

As the steam rises, you breathe it in, the breath, His one, last breath for us.

He died, you live.

Come, come and drink,

and feel the grapes roll down your throat

the many, into your hands, your fingers each where they form leaves,

into your heels where they take roots, deep roots,

and reach down, deep

and so high up

that you touch that place

that meeting place

that we call heaven

that we call home.

Satiated, you repose

in the shade

under the tree, with me, of life, our meeting place

the bush that never burns, never down, anyway,

the grape vine.

Ignited, you leave it, the meeting place,

step into the darkness, so boldly

so your light may shine

so people can see it

there, in their dark.

So you leave, and you walk, with your bundle, filled with love, so you walk.

And then, in the prairie, in the sea of dark,

you loose sight of it, for a bit,

of your light, of the candles, us,

on the horizon, our altar

the flame is blurry, comes again, disappears, it eaten by the dark, gone.

You are lonely.

And in that night, the lonely night, the night of fear, you soon remember, over a prayer:

“Sister, brother, come, come!”

You listen then, closely listen. What was that?

You hear it softly, remember it then, nostalgically, that old, ancient song,

that familiar sound, our soulsong.

You remember there,

remember to be

remember to stay

draw closer, always closer

to your middle, my middle, that middle place

that meeting place

where you find it

finally, eternally,