The breeze is relatively warm tonight, dry. And the leaves, also dry, skitter along behind me. I turn, thinking surely something is there. Darkness covers their trail, but I hear the scratch, the raspy skid, in any case.

Around the corner, I come upon dry grasses that look like miniature bamboo. They wave at me, eye-level. And as they move, a sound like a lady's crinoline sifts into the night. A lady's crinoline, or a maraca filled with tiny beans by some child's hand.

There are branches everywhere, dry. Curved against the deep blue night. Their true shape visible, lovely. And beyond them the stars peek through, tiny lights in a mistless sky.

My heart fills with sudden praise. You are here. In this dry place.

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Blogger nannykim said...

Love it, again you speak my heart!

Blogger Halfmom, AKA, Susan said...

Do please pray that I will find Him in the dry place I am in. I find no motivation to work, even knowing that is it displeasing to Him when I do not work and work well. All inside me just wants to crawl back in bed and sleep until magically life if different.

Blogger L.L. Barkat said...

I am "lighting a candle" for you, Susan. Putting it at HIs feet in the darkness you feel.

Blogger Halfmom, AKA, Susan said...

Thanks LL


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