Angel Oak and sweet grass
Slipping out from the service
my mind busy with wordless
thoughts floating with the sea breeze,
a warm hug of air greets me:
Restless, unsettled and free.
Step by step what I’ve begun,
left, right, or wrong, is soon done.
Walking slowly, seeking shade
from the live oak trees God made,
let the price be paid, come what may.
While the streets are close, the air
and narrow lots kept with care
carry waves of gardenia-
a sweet southern insignia.
Will this be my koinonia?
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