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.