On a Michigan farmer Saturday
in August,
anticipating tomorrow’s evangelical Sabbath,

When late summer vacations
invoked pre-sacred house cleanings
more unusually light,

Heading outside after lunch
into this spectacularly breezy
blue billowing
discontinuously cumulus cloudy
in-between radiant sky blue
infinite wonder

Into this awesomely long leisurely afternoon
becoming one of those special kids
sent out to rediscover solitary play
while Mom clears HER kitchen
to fill our kitchen
with impossible fragrance
of Sunday dinner rhubarb pie
or fresh strawberry shortcake,
whipping vanilla or banana cream
while boiling sweet yellow corn,
baking mac and ancient cheddar cheese
for this evening’s pre-dusk compline dinner.

On this first summer celebrating Saturday
of low humidity
and temperatures predicting September 70s

Out past our red barn
and past its barnyard lily pond
and into golden stubbled hay fields,
sheared sexy contoured face
of my temporarily uncloseted gay imaginings
hoping for YangGod’s sexiest face
smiling in sabbath of return

Continuing on
to private green cool woodland
to nakedly climb a favorite tree
skin to naked bark,
full-bodied embrace
of this fabulous shared EarthLife
transparent
and open
and breezy free with God’s inclusive hope.

Out to play
and pray
this day
and month
and vacation
and re-creation
will never end

Or end,
if time must continue,
in moonlit radiant peace,
night dreams
of asking into perfect Sabbath.