The Last Wall

Two weeks ago I wrote about how easily I can go blind to the world around me, forgetting to look at the familiar things I see every day. Sometimes it takes effort to really look at what I’m seeing, but the effort is worth it. I have found that the tangible world around me can often help me regain a proper perspective on my life. The ocean reminds me that my worries are smaller than they feel. The flowers remind me of God’s provision, the birds remind me of his care (Luke 12:22-31). In the following two poems, I tried to capture what a ruined wall behind our village and the couch in our sitting room reminded me of:

The Last Wall

In a graveyard
Near our village
Time runs slowly
Like molasses
And above the
Planted crosses
Is the church’s
Last wall.

Lonely wall that
Holds up nothing
But the vines that
Hold up it
And a memory
Of a time
And of a living
No one living
Ever saw.

Sitting Still

I am moving very quickly
As I sit here on my couch.

Earth is spinning underneath me
As I fly around a star.

And the galaxy is dancing
And the universe expanding—

So though I am sitting still
I am not really still at all:

Forces that are far beyond me
Have been working all along.

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