Porch Light Mercy

She parked by the cracked front step. With a grocery sack in hand. Two kids asleep in the backseat. And a storm in her left hand. Fifteen years in a hard-edged room. Left a bruise she could not name.She said, “I been gone too long”. But the house still called her name.

Mold on the window frame. Bills stacked high on the sill. A photo face turned to the wall. Like it knew how to be still. She washed one plate, then another. Let the cold water run. And for the first time in a long while. She did not reach for none.

[Hush now, sister. Let it break.You don’t need to carry.Every ache.The night can’t keep you.Where you fell.There’s a door in the dark.And it opens well.

Porch light mercy. Pull me in (pull me in). Porch light mercy. Let me begin (let me begin). I was left in pieces. Now I’m whole again. Porch light mercy. Bring me home again.

She found a scarf in the hallway. And a toy with one blue wheel. Read her own name on the mailbox. Like a wound that finally healed. She sat down hard by the table. Hands wrapped round a chipped white cup. Said, “I’m still rough around the edges”. Then she looked up and stood up.

Hush now, sister. Lift that head. All them years don’t own you. They’re just dead. The room is listening. The oak floors know. You can bloom in a place. Where the hurt once grew cold.

Porch light mercy. Pull me in (pull me in). Porch light mercy. Let me begin (let me begin). I was left in pieces. Now I’m whole again. Porch light mercy. Bring me home again.

She forgave the man who vanished. Forgave the girl she had to be. Forgave the mirror in the bathroom. For the cracks it dared to keep. Then she opened both her windows. Let the late rain wash the dust. And she said, “I am not my leaving”. (come on home) “I am what I made of us”.

Porch light mercy. Pull me in (pull me in). Porch light mercy. Let me begin (let me begin). I was left in pieces. Now I’m whole again. Porch light mercy. Bring me home again.