City street crossing

I live in a large city that is noisy and packed with concrete, steel, glass, cars, and trucks. One day as I crossed a busy street, I noticed the quiet power of a gentle breeze, and the light of a setting sun. No conflict. The wind and light simply poured out on the whole scene, a symbol of the presence of God's love. For a moment, I felt the racing engines of vehicles yield.

The fins of mobile steel displace the airWhere drivers shift through gears and rubber peels.Their teeming transports blow my straight brown hairI wait for them to yield their mass of wheels.A signal shines to let me walk across,As cars exhaust. They crowd my mind untilI hear a sigh of wind through trees that toss,The motion soft and fast as spaces fill.A child and mother pause to close a gate,Restoring order laid along their fenceBy steps that lead to home, where loved ones wait.Behind the bow-fronts, towers tip through denseDesigns of clouds. Their glass gleams golden-redAs day descends, and sunset lights my head.

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In her true light . . .
May 27, 2002
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