Poem: God's Houses

God's Houses

The small bench at the porch's edge,
with it's perfect view of God's garden.
The soft white afghan crumpled in the corner.

The pathway behind cold offices,
dappled with light and shadow
and the rich green of Irish light.

The cabin, high in the Vermont mountains
where fall's final leaves dance
to the stream's symphony below you.

The park, that tiny oasis
with its manicured silence
in the midst of bustling London,

The moment of sunrise over the Asian city
before the children awake
while you stand alone on the balcony.

An hour spent in the coffee shop
the morning rush flowing by
as you look inward to your soul.

God's peace is all around us,
wherever we stop,
and listen.

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The picture is of the sky outside my hotel room while I was working last Friday - one of those moments of peace in the midst of madness. You can click on it for a larger view.

Tom