Friday, March 8, 2013

Collectors


Truth be told I am jealous of those who strive to collect people for their own gain, and are good at it. I have a difficult time selling my wares.  It has nothing to do with feeling I have little to offer.  No.  I have much to offer.  I have just never figured out how to be the first in line for corn across the way, like the ducks.  As I scorned the collector across the table at this week*s meeting, I watched the other man being collected, and was given a glimpse of the Kingdom, a real glimpse of the Kingdom.  The man simply shone with kindness and grace, not an ounce of postural privilege.  I saw Jesus.  I want to be like Jesus.

I watch the world
Jockeying for position
Aiming for the highest place.
Even the ducks across the way
Struggle
To beat one another out
For corn.
The woman in Domestic Violence training
Collected me at lunch
When I was noticed
By the teacher.
I saw her collect others
As the weeks moved on.
Her wallet was filled
With business cards
By the end.
Across the table
At this week*s meeting
A collector I*ve known for years
Strove to collect the man
Next to him.
I looked on in admiration
For the man next to him
Was gracious and kind,
Kind and gracious,
Not an ounce of postural privilege.
I want to be like him:
Gracious and kind
Kind and gracious.
I want to be like him.

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