How Rare is That?

A place where I lived for awhile
during a stormy time in my life
is now a used car lot.
Gravel where the lawn used to be
that I cared for with such effort.
The house no longer a home.

Memories have drawn images
upon my mind that never
will be erased.
Creases hold the thought,
the feel, the presence
of that long ago place
where life was lived
and pain was driven
from my soul
on a daily basis.

But I can also see
the fireplace aglow
and a friend sitting
at my dining table
working on his journal
as I read and rested
at peace, at home.
How rare a moment is that?
Peace.

And in that place
in the history of my life,
I knew God in ways
I never thought I could
and have not done since.
Why? Because I knew
that without Him
I would fly apart
and cease to be.
It lingers still in the
crevices of my memory -
those days of worship
and prayer...and communion

Friendships rare were made,
true connections,
of a spirit kind.
Heart to heart and
mind to mind;
walking a path to truth
and life.

Do I dare dwell on these things?
Would discontent become my
companion in the light of such
a time as that?

It was a time of journey
to another place where I now am.
I would not be the same
if I had not been there
with my friend,
sitting in my house
at peace.
How rare is that?

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