Enchantment - Field Report

Easter morning in New Mexico:

The Son is risen on another day

Blasting grace on telephone poles;

Rows of crosses, rows of trebuchets

Cashed in my thirty day chip for a kiss

In an air-conditioned bar in Truth or Consequences

With a gameshow on, the stakes high enough to risk;

It didn’t taste like I remembered it

Chasing sundogs to believe;

I miss you more than tongues miss pulled teeth

I drove four hours north, with one eye closed

To El Santuario de Chimayo

For a handful of dirt or a final roll;

My friend from back home said I should go

The tourists packed in but no one talked

And by the looks of it, everyone could walk

So I swiped a crutch that was leaning against the wall

That the Padres have the maintenance guy keep stocked

Chasing sundogs to believe;

I miss you more than tongues miss pulled teeth

Now it’s growing wide around us, this feeling in these bones

As we shoot the wind with rifles

And then bludgeon it with stones

The Lord came in the wind and the dirt--

Where he sometimes can be found if you

Squint;

soften it to silhouettes--

His tessellated love is all around