The pews and the smell became secondary to the person
next to me and the buzz I felt in my feet.
I saw rivers and land and a patch of
wildflowers that grew taller than my youngest brother.
I saw the sweat of a preacher and the
dark wood that lined the altar.
The river, wide and coursing met the horizon
without asking to meet.
I see a woman that is my mother reaching towards me
and her mother and my daughter
who will lead me home.
The warmth of the sun and the worn wood
guides me there and I know
that in the hot quiet there will be you
and the stillness is not in disquiet.
And still the sound, I hear over the water it vibrates
in the stone wall that surrounds
my house and
it cannot be forgotten.
Never forgotten clinging to the blades
of grass like dew.
I grip the handles of my chair and close my eyes
and see those blades of grass, the stone wall, the water.
The wildflowers, growing taller than my youngest son.
This hour as any other hour.