Monday, September 26, 2011

Guests of the Host

                                           Lying on the porch with clouds sculpting mythical floats
                                           and a mourning dove’s reedy song:
                                           sounding trees whistling from deep within their roots.
                                           We are out in the free-fall of evening light
                                           spilling onto the crowding field daisies
                                           my daughter clumped in the canning jar.

                                           We are all here together: laying, reading, dozing

                                           and all together peaceful
                                           as the guests of His peace;
                                           loungers on His eternal porch.

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