A New Poem: The Visitor

The facilitator begins:

You're home alone.
There's a knock at the door.

You don't feel safe when someone
uninvited calls.  You don't open
the door to strangers.  Your father
warned you about that.
Your father was a stranger.

Through a winking blind
you see the back of a man's hand,
his sturdy wrist--
a wine stain.

Now the facilitator's voice:
You open the door.
Jesus is standing there.
What do you do?

Someone's grandmother anchored
by her crucifix calls out:
Slam the door!
But you don't hear her or the laughter.

You don't look for your shoes,
you don't hesitate.
Instead, you take His arm,
walk Him to the top of the
porch steps and say:
Sit here with me.  Let's watch
for evening.  I have been looking
for you for such a long time.