a roadside sign half the way
from paradise, or a somewhat
earthly equivalent thereof.
We strolled the crumbling concrete walks.
Ditches lined with native stones.
Quaint houses paired with modest
ranch style dwellings.
Somewhere people call home
this lazy midweek September afternoon.
A place to find the quiet,
come to pray, rest a busy mind and heart
whether kneeling in a field,
seated on a garden bench
or standing in an echoing sanctuary
of a bygone era.
God answers wherever,
the quiet exists in our lives to listen.
c.Darlene Moore Berg Sept 7, 2011