rote

Think of the time
When you
Had nothing
To say to Me
Because you
Did not know
How I feel,
Thought I was
A concept,
Unreal to you
And you kept
Me in a box,
Tried to humor Me
With memorized prayer,
Something, anything
To keep Me
From harming you
Just in case
What you heard
About Me
Was true,
That I have
All power
And death
Will bring
You face-to-face
With judgment
From Me.
Do you still
Hedge your bets,
Not really in belief,
But “just in case”
Praying to Me?
Or have you found
The blessed thing
In my son
Forgiveness that
Makes conversation
Between the two
Of us a
Comfortable thing?
What is on
Your mind,
Friend in my kind
Who knows
The end of all things
Is but beginning
For those who
I see through
Him I love?
Speak, friend.
I listen.