Resurrection Clothes

My boy is not like other boys. He knows, I’ve told him, how he lept within my womb And was the first to recognize his Lord That day his mother came to me, Our sons unborn within. He knew! He danced! I felt his joy! And now when cousin Jesus Comes to see us, John, though larger, Is his willing follower. No jealousy, No childish pranks against the younger boy. And I too, by a grace unbidden, Know no hint of wishing That my boy might be The One. My son, my boy, is training for his role In introducing cousin Jesus to the world. What that will be like we don’t know, of course. For now it is a guarded secret. You’re the first I’ve told. So keep it quiet Till the time arrives, but when it does Remember what I’ve said. Just wait. You’ll see. There’s no denying what is meant to be. And yet, I have a sense of something more— Foreboding almost—Yes, that’s it, but Let’s not talk of that. Just watching These dear boys at play warms my heart s...

Of all the detritus in this drawer (why did I save this stuff?) amid the paperclips, the capless pens and penless caps,  the rubber bands, the scraps of paper with a title of a book  that someone recommended once, the business cards,  addresses from old envelopes, my daddy’s magnifying glass —again I see him reading as he sat in his upholstered chair—   there is a tape… An old cassette... the label says it's “Prince and Leslie playing.” Underneath the names I’d written “12” and “7.”   Then, past the early '80s tunes they had recorded from the radio —and so I’d never played it through, just thinking, “Well, I’ll listen to the rest someday,” and now that I am cleaning out the drawer I let it play on that old tape recorder that I found while cleaning off a shelf the other day— I hear my children’s voices. “I’m thinking pos-tiv-ly,” the younger drawls. “Prince is gonna…” Crack! A cue stick hits a ball and then more cr...