There's a tall chain link fence
that borders a corner of Bushrod Park.
Wet, tangled weeds cling to the ankle.
This morning
a gate was open to the other side.
There above the soccer fields
the light of dawn hung
suspended in mist.
To step through the gate
was to shyly enter glory
to breathe illuminated air
to see God's breath
to know it's there so near to us
just beyond the fence.
The birds fly
in and out of light.
The sun burns away
the extraordinary
and we step back through the gate to the ordinary
to the fenced-in corner
where we take apart
and build and take apart,
tie and untie
and wrestle in our sleep.
We find and share bits of ecstasy
from our gritty work
our gardens and dreams
from our awkward embrace
and encounters with each other.
We take comfort from
water droplets of light
that give us thirst
for our true home
so near to us
through the little gate
in the chain-link fence