Autumn: The Rest of the Year

August is not finished, summer isn't over,
but my feet are cold.
My feet were cold yesterday
and Monday.
Tonight I could smell the cold when I went out to my car;
I could smell the leaves turning yellow,
just on the edges, like gilt pages in a Bible.

Soon I'll be wearing a long white coat
and I'll wrap my neck in a red knit scarf
and I'll tote a polka dot umbrella wherever I walk.
I'll buy some slippers for my cold feet
because socks just aren't good enough.

I'm going to visit my mother on weekends,
drink tea and watch the rain from a quiet couch.
My brothers and I will eat turkey, probably,
and stuffing, definitely, on November 27.
And perhaps for Christmas, we'll all be together
in the firelit cabin on the hill with my Aunt Tina,
who smells like coffee and roses
and whose kitchen smells like coffee and roses.

Worse than a curse:

God showed up.

As if he were missing?

Hey guys, I found God over here, hiding out behind the 12-foot cross hanging on the wall behind the platform.

God: "Sorry I'm late, but at least I showed up, right?"

It is you, Jesus! Now that you've shown yourself in your tattered canvas robe, white-man's beard, and sandals, I'd recognize you anywhere. It also helps that I feel all good inside and I'm raising the roof with my hands and singing loud and off-key.

I carry stones in my pockets just for people who sink low enough below the radar to think that God is a respector of times, places, persons, styles, etc. Don't you know he's sovereign? Don't you know he's omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent? Be careful how you use your language.