I carry my church with me
wherever I go, unfolding the altar
of a moment while out walking
with my husband, pausing to pick
a few dandelions gone to seed,
taking a deep breath, then blowing,
sending those silver messengers
into the air above a field,
each one the seed of a prayer
I say every day I'm alive:
Please let me give up all hope
for a better past, and just be here
by the side of the driveway,
watching wisps of clouds turning
pink with evening, then purple,
and listening to the complex solo
of a catbird perched in a maple
as we say goodbye to the light
which may leave the sky tonight
but will stay with us, flickering
for years to come.
--James Crews
[Sunset over the Sequatchie Valley in TN].
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