by Kaija Magee, Tigard Friends
there’s a feeling i get
when i close my eyes
and feel adequately perfect
(or perfectly adequate?)
when i feel that i fit
like my oddly-shaped puzzle piece has found a home
i slept fitting on church floors
i ate fitting in bread pudding
i danced fitting in the snow
i sang fitting through worship
i sweated fitting while helping a woman prepare for the cremation of her horse
i laughed fitting with dozens of chuckling friends
i heard fitting in everyone’s voices
i breathed fitting,
in the middle of it all
i fit,
my voice-
along with every voice at midwinter,
fit.
it was like every metaphor ever spoken-
rolled into one,
and placed in my lap.
metaphors are just words,
words are just letters,
letters are just ink on a page.
there is something we all have that helps us understand,
something we can’t describe,
something so complex and beautiful and intricate
in each of us.
that whispers meaning
and explains truth
it just fits.
mine fits with yours fits with hers fits with his fits with theirs
it just fits.
the divine forms us
molds us like clay
creates every part of us like it is,
intentionally
and puts us together,
in extraordinary designs
and in wondrous patterns
what can i say?
we just fit.
