Not a People Easily Known.

We stand feet from each other,
holding our drinks and Christmas cookies.
Close enough to touch and speak,
but far too far to be known.

Though words are spoken and heard on each end,
the chasm is fixed and will not be crossed.
The inches between us are miles long,
ground not covered by effortless conversation.

We not people easy known.

But there is a glimmering hope in our eyes,
a spark of indignation that insisting
there are eyes that do indeed see us.

Us - unmasked, uncovered, unfathomed.

And that hope keeps us alive,
keeps us speaking,
keeps us touching,
keeps us watching the horizon for the coming of the Knowing One.

Oh, come.