I just swept this floor
but with every open door,
crunchy dry leaves blow in.
Helene came and went,
full of fury and hell bent,
to wipe us clean off the map.
Trees in the yard and trees in the street--
roots exposed like gnarly old feet.
We woke to a nightmare.
The morning revealed
a wound too deep to feel.
All of us literally shook.
The chainsaw chorus began to sing.
Branches and limbs felt the sting
of metal teeth ready to eat.
Streets were cleared.
Through new spaces daylight leered.
Where do we even start?
We love our own
where the onions are grown
and we quickly got to work.
Resources shared and
hot meals prepared--
on grills in the church yards.
By truck and by plane
came relief for our pain.
Time to exhale...just a little.
And so...
I WILL sweep my floor
because I CAN open my door
and be thankful for the mercy of God.
Comments
Post a Comment