Jesus—
you and I,
sometimes we miss each other,
two blocks apart, heading north and south.
More likely, I miss you,
half on purpose, afraid you won’t show up,
leaving me in a corner café alone.
Still more afraid you will come,
God himself,
and sit across from me,
stale muffin crumbs scattered across the table.
Only, that is frightful honesty.
All the rest of the week
I think it’s accidental, you and I,
missing each other
two blocks apart.
Esta Doutrich 
Sadly far to often its true. If only i could completely rid me of myself.
Glad you could identify, Joe. Thanks for reading.
So, so true . . . all of it. My heart connects with it.
I found myself reading through your blog the other night and crying, because it is so much of my heart . . .
Thank you for writing.
The just blesses me so much. Your tears–your heart. I’m honored that my humble scribbles connect with them. Thank you.
“More likely, I miss you,
half on purpose, afraid you won’t show up”
thank you for saying it for me
gah. well I feel that all the time 🙂
Found your blog recently. Your writing is beautiful… I love the way you paint with words… I’m not an artistic writer, but I do so enjoy reading beautifully crafted thoughts. Plus I connect with so much of what you say– your words touch the deep part of my heart. They call me away from the rat race of achievement, competition, and fear, to musing on the true, the beautiful– yes, the heart of God.
Thank you for sharing whisperings from your heart… Though you don’t know me, I met you once at Dale Heatwoles for Sunday lunch in H-burg, VA.
Bless you, bless you,
Brenda
Brenda, yes, I remember that sunday lunch. So glad you could connect–so glad.
Yes, this is me, too.