Poem: A Stranger Smiling

A Stranger Smiling

You look up as you pass the clapboard church,
up at a warning sky, darkening with distant thunder,
a surprise so early in the spring. Your step quickens.

Your legs tire, reminding you that you are no longer young,
and each moment, even these at the cusp of the storm,
are more precious, that each bloom and blossom,

even each storm with it's fury and chaos,
is a gift, a moment to be carried close to the heart,
and shared.

So despite the wind that whips past you, you stop
and stare past the steeple, and pray thanks,
a stranger in the streets, smiling as the first raindrops fall.

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The picture is of the Mettowee Community Church, just down the street from my home in West Pawlet, VT. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom