Vaya Com Dios

today the clouds came in and staged a Monet right in front of my eyes
sprawling bungalows, tile roofs
palms and purple majesty
big sky, tall green hills

and for a moment I realized how complete God is in the follow-through
how each detail knows it's position and cue
how the trees and shrubs looks so green against the clouds stacked on each other
how the wind knows just so to move the hammock
how the sun lines up behind "Edgar" every morning on the Barra beach next to the seaside dive and shrimp and rice and sucre de limon.

Thoughts from the casket

It's always cold on Easter in Mississippi,
and I felt it all the way through this morning's run.

Afterward, I swaddled myself in a blanket and let the strong sun hit my face and
the unopened Bible on my lap.

Sometimes that's all I can do when the whirlwind steals my breath,
and the fire crisps my lips. Sometimes all I can do is listen and think;
squeeze my grave cloth wrapped body into the cleft and hide.

I feel like dying because I'm dead and sloughing off as Christ,
who laid aside His grave clothes, lives for me.

So as I run and my grave clothes flap back in my face like a flag or a banner,
I pretend they are really Christ's standard signaling that He is in the lead.