The Sand Hill Review          http://www.sandhillreview.org                    2005

 

Love Story

 

By the time I had driven cross-country,

The year of phone courting behind us

And the twenty years of misalignments

Seemingly forgotten or forgiven,

 

She’d turned to a little clan of chosens,

Reborn and joyful, their tongues a-babble,

Their church an Indiana farmhouse

Not far from town and her usual life;

 

And their charismatic preacher-man

Who holds them all in his shepherd hands,

Especially the wives and girl-brides—

Love gifts the good Lord accepts through him.

 

How she found them was by chance encounter,

But now she thinks faith has called on her.

In three Sundays’ time she’ll give her body

That she receive her belovèd Jesus.

 

But this Sunday morning, over eggs,

She asks Would I like to go with her?

For a moment, a light might have hovered.

I thank her, then say I wouldn’t fit in.

 

Near dusk she returns, glowing with Love;

She sprinkles rose petals over me.

Later, in dark, I start the car, drive

Off, don’t say anything like good-bye.        

 

 David Cummings