Mailbox full

I left a message for God last night

On the wings of a dove with feathers so white, my blackness wore itself like a scarlet letter

It read, dear God,

I see him wherever I go

In music notes of songs written in the charcoal veins of Etta James

In mirrors along my bedroom walls

In the bottom of my morning coffee

And in the footprints of staggering children on their way to school

I wonder, why you would bring me to love and leave me there

Weeping at the foot of its cross?

Wondering whose wings I can borrow to take me away from here

Why guardian angels don’t grace the battlefield called love

And why he can’t stand the very sight of me but lying down, he seemed to enjoy it

God, tell me something

Why is it that you loved Mary enough to breed your son and yet you caused her the most pain?

Why would you give her something and then take it away from her in pieces of parables and miracles as if the legacy was enough to console her?

As if memories where strong enough or wide enough to hold her?

As if the trinity wasn’t supposed to include her?

I feel washed away Lord

Like rubble underneath his feet

Like a valentine’s day card from kindergarten collecting dust on his mother’s fridge

Like meaningless phrases such as ‘boys will be boys’ but what about the men boys were intended to be?

I feel like he quit on me Lord

As if the devil made a better offer

But who listens to anyone who left heaven just to win an argument?

Clearly, their wings were never made of gold

Their breath never smelled of myrrh

And their hair didn’t curl like the lips of the moon

I feel like he quit on me Lord when he walked past me this morning

And I ain’t never ask a man to be righteous without respect

Can I say I’m perfect?

No, I’m more of the Magdalene than the Mary but I try

I pray with his name coming from my lips like smoke to let you know there’s a fire here

There’s virtue here

And whatever doubt I fostered, I attempt to bury it with the dirt of my own skin and the fingers of my own sacrifice

It’s not my love I want a favor for

It’s my humility

I just want to know Lord, if I leave myself in your mailbox, will you check me?