Cotton Patch Poem
I shared yesterday about how that big family surprise en route to Mexico taught me about the frailty of our human form to receive the overwhelmingly powerful and pure love of God. It showed me how we need to be strengthened in our inmost being so we can receive the big, deep, and wide love of God. In that moment, I lived Ephesians 3.
This poem is about the surprise of my grandparents (affectionately named HeeMa and HeePa) and the massive group hug of alllllll my little cousins (back when they were little), and the overwhelming love of it all.
Poetry is not everyone’s thing. But think of this like an impressionist painting with little words instead of little dots. It’s meant to share the feeling of the moment and paint a picture but not as black and white as the non-fiction piece I wrote on the same thing yesterday.
Enjoy.
On my way through Plainview, Texas:
Skippin’ on asphalt to that Cotton Patch.
Float open the horseshoe handle, chalkboard special:
all the fixens—chicken fried steak, creamgravy, $6.99
that hot fried okra makes the sizzle spit.
Peek over the bluebonnet border… “HeeMa? HeePa?”
“Duhneeeduuh!” and they’re all there, rise up and fly to me
thump, thu,thump,thump, like mosquitoes to a light, like
baby monedas to a magnet,
every cousin, every height, every inch
calves-knees-utter tugging, pressed by porcelain-fingers-hugging.
Angel arms fling, and wings—around them—a tent,
a fort, built with thinning yeller sheets.
We color blue the menu’s boots but. my eyes walk away and up—
swim to theirs through the saltlick water, baby golden radiance.
To see Your glory would kill me.
May you have moments this week where you are overwhelmed by the goodness and mercy of the Lord and His great love for you.
Til next time… Toodle-loo and peace be with you.
