NEXT HOUSE
On my street, there are all these houses -
all lined up next to each other - in a row.
I see their skin - their roofs, their colors -
their windows - as well as their front doors.
I see their occupants come and go. I wave.
I smile. I acknowledge. In time I get to know
a few of the people on my street. Sometimes
someone moves and I realize I only know a
few folks and their names.
Surprise! Worse!
Sometimes I don’t really know the people
in my own home - in my own family - or even
deeper I don’t even know the person in my skin.
I am a mystery to myself. God do I even know you? Does anyone ever receive communion?
© Andy Costello, Reflections,
2015
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