tell me you love me by the charcoal fires

earned rest; the falling again
from loneliness to love

— Wendell Berry, “Goods”

It is the Lord, you said,
as I peered into the distance.
Could it be?
I marveled, that
a heart once broken,
is stitch back into
some greater life?

I left my nets
and swam strand-ward,
to find a stranger.

Could you be him my soul seeks?
Are you he
for whom my heart pants?

I am a cripple, make me walk,
I am a stubborn rock,
make me flesh.

The feeling I like best of all,
is in the face of unceasing
anxious action,
you hold out a diner coffee cup:
come, frühstück with me.
Where two or three break lox in my name
there also I will be.

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