Third Place

In the corner spot of the bench seat, I
Met with God and with great thinkers, studied
Past papers and pages. Pimento toast
With bacon and a cold brew, glass sweating—
I keep napkins underneath to catch the
Condensation—kept me fueled and focused,
That and the eight-hour YouTube video
Of coffee-shop sounds and soft jazz, because
The real thing by itself is just a bit
Distracting. After studies, or before,
I open a journal and a notebook,
One for prose, one for verse, and I reflect
On life, its beauty, its difficulties,
And on God’s great faithfulness through it all.


Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

Postcard

I thought to write a postcard to myself,
The present to the past with some advice,
But chose to put the card back on the shelf.
Some plot points might be changed, but at what price?
For God redeemed the long and sleepless nights
And answered pray’rs I did not know to pray.
For ev’ry six wrongs, there were seven rights,
And ev’ry dead end then led to today.
My story is made richer by the hurt
That taught the truth of healing and of grace
Abounding, resurrection, flow’r and dirt
Together, both belonging to a place.
My life’s been far from perfect, but I see
The blessings of the road that made me me.


Photo by Murat Karahan on Unsplash