Waiting On God
The solitude of worship draws me.
Tantalizing mist of the divine calls.
With shoes of mud still tied to my feet
I try to find stillness and grace.
But like magpies my thoughts
chatter constantly.
My mind won’t still.
I feel like I am in exile.
Then one day when
I start to believe all is lost.
I feel the chants of flowers,
Push through sprinkles of silver fog.
I hear the prophetic mockingbirds sing
and God walks out of the clouds
to sit at my feet.
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