A Matter of Chairs

PART ONE



He sits amputated
Mechanized chair
In brisk open air.
His courage not under-rated.
The sign is brilliant green.
Homeless, please give
I’m trying to live
On my own.
Circumstances mean.
His affect seems blunted
So sad.
But just get him talking
He’s glad.
So pleased to re-enter
Though not at the centre
The Human Race isn’t so bad.





PART TWO



She was in the Chair
These past four years.
Movement and speech
Become mechanical.
Nifty stylus operated
By mouth and
Showing needs, hurts, triumphs.
Triumphs?
Yes definitely when
Reverse became manageable
On the joystick.
When spring melt might
Bring on sunny sidewalk
Journeying.
And Gary was there
As if nothing had changed.
Two kids showed stress
But not Gary.
Still caressing, and
Playing silly tricks.
Perhaps their laughter
Was best triumph.
And prayers seemingly
Never answered.
But they were answered.
Yes, no or later.
Covenant at that wedding
Seventeen years back.
Still operative.
Compelling.
Worthy.
Until death?
Well, they almost always
Shoved that monkey aside.
And carried on.





PART THREE



You’re up here now

Another Chair

For judgment

Not the nasty kind.

Rather the rewarding.

Handicaps.

Setbacks.

Humiliation.

Prayers that seemed

Only frustrating.

But I heard Child.

So many, you impacted

In that state.

And for the good.

I give you now

The Forever.

Problem free.

Best of society.

Conflicts stopped at the Gate.

Welcome, Child of the King.

You give me pleasure.

Jesus concurs.

Spirit, with you all along.