274: A Seat Saved For You

I cannot tell you about all the places I belong 

without telling you about my family’s dinner table, 

about the stories my father would tell there,

voice swelling like a violin. 

I cannot tell you all the places I belong 

without thinking of my mother’s hands- 

the ones that used to trace my face in church 

lulling me into comforted calm. 

I cannot tell you about belonging 

without imagining that same church- 

beautiful, messy humans 

propping open front doors,

singing in harmony, 

bringing each other casseroles on hard, rainy days. 

I cannot tell you about belonging 

without mentioning 

the crook of his shoulder 

the smile in his voice, 

the way he knows my rag-tag dreams. 

I cannot tell you about all the places and people 

that feel like home 

without also saying- 

it exists for you too. 

Come on in. 

Kick off your shoes. 

Take this cup of tea. 

We’re making pasta. 

We’re dancing in the kitchen. 

We’re talking about mercy. 

We have a seat saved for you. 

Written by Sarah A. Speed // Writing the Good