almost (Easter 6-C)

it almost didn't happen:
   every door was slammed
                in our faces,
   every road became more
                 and more
              potholed,
   the shadows chased us down
                 each alley
         until we hit the wall,
      then
             you put on your hardhat,
             unfolded the blueprints,
             rolled up your sleeves,
         and built that city
         which is open to everyone;

it almost didn't happen:
   your bed was unslept in,
            empty hangers in
                  the closet,
      your laptop and cell phone
            left on the desk,
   and the house echoed with
                the emptiness
                of our hearts,
      then
            the doorbell rang,
         and when we opened the door,
            the Babysitter stood there,
       a big smile on her face,
       suitcases full of peace
                at her side,
         and gathering up our
                           fears
            she took them out to
                     the curb
          for the trash pickup
          scheduled next morning.

(c) 2013 Thom M. Shuman