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So what about the wandering

they said as they asked for the full story

but is there anything more comforting

than just knowing that I am at home

in a grassy bed

serenaded by a summer song

as a cloud plays tag

with a hummingbird

tell us about the false prophet

they said, looking for a lurid sensation

but who wants to remember him

if Jesus is real who wants to talk about a cheap imitation

tell us about all the rich and powerful you used to know

they said, looking for an exclusive in

but who is richer, the poor man content with what he has

or the rich man who still wants more

when you find yourself where you are supposed to be

why would anyone want to look back on a life spent running

from the love

that has formed this little piece of creation

where I am lying

resting in faith on the promises

I have been given

a bee is buzzing over my eyes

humming toward the forest

a bird is flapping

circling down toward a nest

and this is the sound of peace

there is nothing about the city of self-destruction

that I miss

or would like to discuss