I’m not talking about Jesus. I never really knew him.
I’m talking about Judy—daughter, sister, friend, artist, woman,
wife X 3, mother X 1.
who I never fully understood, but knew well enough to know that
if you brought her a beer she’d say—It’s so nice
to have someone bring me a beer. She’d say—
My cat never brings me beer, and
if she was stung by a friend & the friend quoted Buddha & Buddha said,
If you’re stung by a wasp will you stop smelling the flowers?
she’d say—No, but I’d find a different patch of flowers.
Or she’d say—
I never really liked the guy. Or, depending on her mood,
Yes—All flowers be damned!
But probably she’d breathe a heavy sigh and say—Well, WWJD?
Only she’d be talking about Jesus,
because even though she never really knew Him and
even though (for the record) He never once brought her a beer,
He’s still the only man she ever really trusted.
Michelle Meyer (@meeshmeyerwrites / michellemeyerwrites.com) is a housesitter, hiker, and the author of The Book of She, a collection of character vignettes devoted to women.