This one riffs on John 11, the amazing story of Jesus raising his dear friend Lazarus from the dead. But then it’s really about another dear friend of Jesus’–me, as time keeps passing and the process of becoming like him defies easy description. I’ll make some pointing comments afterward for those of you (like me) who need all the help you can get to understand poems.
Just a few notes if you want ’em:
* The title is a play on the name of the famous read-at-graduations Dr. Seuss book that highlights the partnership of this adventurous life with God, whether (in the poem’s metaphor) in the lap or with the rabbi “watching” us drive, as we (to change the image) never stop being a branch in the vine.
* The red in the first stanza is a warning light on the dashboard. If you adjust the seat, you can block the light behind the steering wheel and make it look like you don’t have any problems. Or you can just smash the light I suppose, which is great … until it’s not.
* The main stanza (a word which always makes me think of the Nissan Stanza my friend Brett drove in college … complete with a baseball as the handle on his gear shift, fun trips to Yello Sub in Lawrence, and hilarious times creatively bending some traffic rules) is the one I like the best and reading John 11 will illuminate it.
That’s it. Thanks for reading! Text me 785 317 4733 if you got any thoughts, comments, questions, etc.!