Butterfly chalices. We sat on her front porch ... talking and watching butterfies gather the last bits of sweet before the first frost. ... Rocking slowly back and forth in the afternoon sun while the smell of firewood wrapped comfort all around ...
... and where I sit at church ... this is "my" window ... this is what I look at while I listen to the preacher ...
These places where I am still ... and in an airplane sometimes, and at the beach always ... These places all feel the same to my soul ... these places where communion gently rocks my soul back and forth ... these are places where my soul senses the presence of God.
No comments:
Post a Comment