Early Morning Visitation

I heard your voice this morning

and it had been

more than a long time.

I didn’t call on you

like I said I would,

I was too ashamed.

 

You knew that I had broken

all my promises

and had let my lust linger

in those old, dark places.

I had begun to view

Hell, with a certain nostalgia,

reserved for fiends

and the derelict.

 

Imagine my surprise

to find you at my door

on that fine Sunday morning

in September.

 

Of course,

I opened the door

and invited you in

and truthfully,

I was so shocked

that I forgot to offer breakfast;

I am sorry for that,

as for so many other things.

 

So we drank coffee

in the kitchen,

in the warmth of the morning sun

and we talked of things,

but you never once asked,

why I had forsaken and abandoned you,

or why I had not kept my word.

 

I knew why you came over

this morning,

of all mornings,

it wasn’t just because you were passing by.

It wasn’t just a social call,

so we could talk about old days;

no, you came over

to remind me

you still cared.

 

As it is your way,

your heart held no malice

and I nearly fell apart

with your embrace.

Thank you for reminding me

that I am more than just alive

and that because you are,

I can be, as well.

 

There is no feeling

like knowing you are loved

and not forgotten,

for I know that I

have often lost myself.

The beauty of your presence

at my door

is all the sign I need

to know that I am not alone.

 

Then we stood outside

and said our good-byes

and you looked at all my discarded

and unfinished work

and you said,

that if I wanted,

you would come back

and help me set a few things right.

 

I agreed

and we embraced one more time.

You went on your way down the road.

I knew that there were others

who would yet receive a visit today

and I smiled to myself.

Standing in the sunshine

that felt as good as any

I have known

in a long, long time.

 

HG – 2016

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