October 8th 2009

afternoon sun pours
through horizontal brown slats
and patterned green glass
giving me verdant textured light
next to slender rectangles
of the outside world
where workers steadily carry brick
walls climb higher,
women move along 
hips sway under loads
balanced perfectly on head
sprouts of vibrant color
in dust filled streets,
children sit in door way
passing time, watching
young man adeptly maneuver
bicycle through rubble,
street dog adjusts himself
in the pile of warm sand
near cube of neatly arranged brick,
jaunty push cart spills with colorful wears,
truck passes with a honk,
solitary peacock glides from roof to tree,
power lines swag from
pole to pole, house to house
smoke rises from incense and cooking
to feed body and soul
I can see all, but no one can see me
through horizontal brown slats
and patterned green glass

Entree from a Journal on Top of a Mountain:

I am on top of a mountain with Sarah and Alyce. We drove to Boone together to escape life for a while. Driving on the Blue Ridge Parkway we found a little pull-over where there was a short trail. This trail took us through a ferny forest up to the top of a mountain where we each found our own solitary spot to sit and rest, on the exposed rock face.

I sit on a huge piece of rock and around me there are some shrubberies growing, both small and large. Out before me stretches mountains covered in forests filled with bird songs. It is cloudy and foggy. You can see rain clouds moving slowly across thy sky and every once in a while you hear thunder. A sweet cool breeze sometimes blows by. Looking deep down into the valley is dizzying. So refreshing, peaceful, and magical.

The rock I am sitting on is so old, worn, and huge. It is really the heart of the mountain, poking through the forest. Even though God made this mountain so powerful, strong, and almost unapproachable it has a good heart. The mountain is good because it creates a hiding place for me and a home for the wildlife. The mountain allows flowers to grow on it and other wonderful green things. On the rocky places of this mountain top there things called "rock baths." They are little indentations in the rock that have been carved out by the wind and rain that hold water. They are strange little things. It looks like someone poked holes in the rock with a stick or huge finger. If they were not up here the birds and plants would have no water, because it all rushes down to the valley. These little "rock baths" are perfect symbols of God's goodness and provision.

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable that they?" Matthew 6:26