Lines

We often think in terms of lines.

      We stand in them with folded hands and muted voice,
      assuming that we have no choice.

       We run the lines we need to say,
       keeping the unruly ones at bay.

       We keep the colors well inside.
       It's not like us, but we can say I tried.

We often think in terms of lines.

        We map my routes from A to B,
        planning what we want to see.

        We map my progress on a graph.
        Yep, we do! I knew you'd laugh.

        We mapped our goals out on a grid;
        color-coded, dated, organized. We did!

We often think in terms of lines.

        We try to make things fit,
        even if it takes sheer willpower and grit.

But sacred moments live outside of lines.

        Blood-orange streaks of light
        pour out sunset for the heron's flight.

        Tears we thought we'd never cry
        spill from eyes we cannot dry.

        The reaching up of tiny hands
        makes us forget our best-laid plans.

        The day-trip we charted with GPS
        becomes an impromptu road-trip West.

Don't always think in terms of lines.
Graphs and grids can make you blind
to holy revelation
found right where you stand,
on Holy Ground.