a poem

(Photo by Remo Savisaar)

I woke up the Pharisee today.

Looking out my kitchen window I breathe, the autumn leaves comfort my soul as they fall the old and incubate the new. I wash my hands clean in the bowl of my righteousness: my hidden closet prayers, my undisclosed alms towards the fatherless, the soft spoken words of condolences I speak to the needy. Those hypocrites out there sure need a savior. If only...they'd be closer to finding the Real. They'd rest their shallow serving and be truly sacrificial by Christ's example. So glad I'm not like them...what a weight to shed. They act like Spring...all. the. time.

Oh, that beautiful crescendo of leaf color outside my driver's window amazes my knowledge of God's glory. Can they even see it? Awe... Ah! A winged beauty takes flight before my eyes and smashes. The highway speed takes no regard for bird's error and I am shaken. Heart races, pounds. You halt my sermon, Oh God! The beauty of earth and sky still stretch before me unchanged, yet all has changed. I return the rented carpet cleaner, then return home, afraid of my own destructiveness. That open windshield before me guiding my view while protecting me from harm's way feels like an ally in the unknown demise of my impartial thoughts and judgments. I arrive home and sit in the driveway, still breathing hard. Adjusting the rear view mirror, a reflection of self appears. I am a windshield? Am I the bird? No, I am the reflection and the reflection was a Pharisee this morning but is a broken wing just now, a part of the whole. A falling leaf gracefully lands against the glass where previously an innocent life ended and I embrace Spring a little more carefully.

Some days I am a Pharisee and nothing measures up. Even today, I am asked to cast the first stone and I rake a pile of leaves and jump in because I can't see that Grace is for all.

~Elsa (my wife)