A poem || Vantage Point
I sat in my car
warmed by the Sunday rays,
a chorus of golden glow
preparing hearts for worship.
My baby slept behind me
cocooned in her carseat
while strangers and friends alike
trickled from cars through glass doors
unaware of my presence- a silent spectator.
Then the doors closed and
the service began.
But I remained
watching from the outside-
a rare moment of quiet,
a new vantage point.
And from there, I noticed:
The birds convening
where concrete corners meet,
parallel and perpendicular.
They were bright and alive
beneath the buzzing electrical lines
against the backdrop of a cloudless blue sky.
They chatted and swooped,
soared and dipped,
graceful arching circles,
with wings outstretched.
Both motion and unity,
wide and witnessing.
A worship service above our heads-
A dance of delight.
A wordless sermon.
A hymn of praise.
We would do well to pay attention.

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