Her quirky profile
from behind the faces of friends turned obstacles.
(Who is she? Is she with our group?)
What magical winds had brought her to him
with elfin face and impish smirk?
Outside their little bubble a modernized hymn droned…
Oh for a thousand… Oh for a thousand…
( she looks like the hero in that movie THE DARK CRYSTAL)
Her hair was dark and stringy
bobbed in page style
Nose and mouth swept together in perfect harmony.
Her nose was her prominent feature…
upturned slightly, thrust proudly forward
Its apex a perfect point.
She stopped singing, looked through the bulletin…
Her interest skipping from section to section.
(Is that the tip of her tongue on her upper lip?)
Then, back to the hymn.
…Oh for a thousand… tongues to sing…
His peripheral captured her perfect visage
memorized it in stolen glances
Always aware of the danger
that she might see him staring.
(THE DARK CRYSTAL. I’m an idiot.)
Her mouth was a thin slash
Higher up on her face than the average mouth?
Her pointed chin set itself apart from a well defined jaw,
Her thin lips crept up slightly on one side
Like she had a secret she wasn’t prepared to share.
And leap you lame for joy…
oh, for a thousand… oh, for a thousand…
There was a chameleon-like quality to her eyes,
Large, sunken, dark with dark circles…
(Does she have trouble sleeping, I wonder?)
Stringy bangs pushed back by thin fingers
Her eyes closed as the song took her further from him.
She added her voice to the other voices
blended together in throng.
Look and be saved through faith alone
Be justified by grace.
(Okay, deep breath… Body?)
She was smallish, but not short.
She wore a loose fitting denim colored dress
Which refused to betray her figure
and a silver hued ring
…on the wrong hand.
Possibly full-ish breasts
Under shoulders held unnaturally stiff
Escaping the hem of her unrevealing dress
Were shortened calves
ending in knobby feet
shrouded in sandals.
Dear God, who was this goddess?
From whence had she come?
O For a thousand tongues to sing
My dear Redeemer’s praise!
And suddenly, inspiration.
Fingering his pocket
fumbling with the hard case
He groped at it, turned it on its side,
Heard the soft rattle as the container flipped over…
Heard each pill displaced and rearranged
before it twisted out of his grip
and the small plastic box retreated
further into his pocket,
the clatter dampened by the depths of cloth.
(This is so stupid. She doesn’t even care that I exist.)
My gracious Master and my God
assist me to proclaim…
Once more, this time decisively
He drew it from the deep pocket
Wrestled briefly with the plastic tab
and poured six? No, seven
of the tiny orange capsules in his palm
He offered one to the person on his right
Popped three in his mouth
Offered some to the obstacles separating THEM.
(No, leave some for her, you….!!)
He fumed at the faux pas
as the worship leader inexplicably revisited earlier stanzas.
Harlots and publicans and thieves…
Harried but undeterred
he carried on with his mission
Silently held out the tiny clear monolith to her
She paused her singing for a moment
Looked at it
Smiled with a quizzical eye
Held out her hand
He gently shook two tablets free
…and their eyes made contact.
The transaction completed, the connection formed, his fever passed
he glanced at the crumpled program in his hand
Oh, for a thousand…. Oh, for a thousand…!