To The Stranger

Whenever I close my eyes and picture you
you're looking me right in the eyes
telling me that everything will be alright
because
you love me

Usually you have dark hair
because the Tall Dark Stranger
is the stereotype you embody
in my mind

But even though your mental image is
strong and quiet
I know you are funny
goofy, even
because you see humor in everything
the way I do

You like being a kid again
But take time to appreciate unnoticed beauty
Like the breeze That One Thursday
or the way the sun hits a branch
because your soul
is decades older than your body

There will be many a time
When you'll run up to me, panting
Red-faced and grinning from ear to ear
clutching your leather Bible
because you can't wait to show me
what God just showed you

And then we'll sit
and drink coffee
in a downtown cafe
and comb through scripture
enraptured by the new meanings
in verses we've read
a hundred times before

But every time this image surfaces
your face is always cloudy
your eyes are bright
but what color are they?

Do I know you now?
Did I pass you on the street yesterday?
Did I disregard you as an acquaintance?

Have I looked at you and wondered
what if?

Are you someone
destined for the same mystery college as I
that I'll meet one day in a writing class
someone brand new?

Who are you?
Where are you?

To know your name
your face
would be to disregard
everyone else

But here, now
I'll never know if
I'm wasting time?
Or will these stories will be told later
to our children?