From Damascus to Emmaus
I’m waiting you out.
I’ll be here, standing on the side of this dirt road,
waiting for the scales to fall from your eyes.
You’re making it hard on yourself, honey,
determined to wear these blinders, determined to ignore what we and the world know:
I am the one for you, and you are the one for me.
So, go on, kick against this oxgoad,
persecute your poor heart with denial,
hold their coats and stand aside,
pretend like you don’t feel it or get it.
The light will come.
And it will be luminous.
When it does, I’ll be waiting, ready to use my heart as your salve to open your poor eyes,
ready to journey with you to Emmaus,
where our chests will burn with love and understanding.