when we find ourselves in the desert,
we are always tempted to return
to egypt.
we rise victorious on the authority of
the most high,
freed not from sin’s face peering over our shoulders,
but kept safe from its damning power.
change reveals your true heart
and this exodus has found mine
scrambling, scrabbling
through the dirt, looking for something
someone unnamed.
pulling up grass by its roots,
digging to find macedonia’s green
cats, barren and stiff,
the house the became turquose,
the pumpkins that never grew,
the riot police,
touching his face when he cried,
communion.
