Jesus in Blue Jeans

my jesus in blue jeans
is laughing at me.
i think he finds me charming.
i'm happy to amuse him.

he's driving.
i'm in the passenger seat
of the convertible.
red, of course.
nothing fancy.
an older, vintage model.
[jesus and i,
we love the vintage models.]

he's speeding.
no, gliding
down the shore.
the sand gets kicked up behind us
while the waves crash beside us,
and i'm telling a story
the story of my life
and he's listening
as he drives.

every now and then
he'll turn his head
and nod
or smile
or look at me pained with compassion.
but then i'll say something bright and funny
and he'll laugh at me again.

my jesus in blue jeans
is a good driver.
he lets me relax and talk with ease.
the wind doesn't even bother me
coz i'm finally here with my jesus
and it's our time now
and he's listening to me.

at last i'm done with my talking
and he looks at me
and i look back
and he smiles his approval.
so i get up, out of the passenger seat
to the back seat [car still moving]
and sit on the hard top.

the wind's blowing harder up there,
but i don't care.
i stretch out my arms
releasing
smiling
as my jesus in blue jeans is driving,
me to Freedom.