During this time of seemingly non-stop bummers, of disease and unease, dreary with fear, a little drop of joy can feel like a revolutionary act.
Into High Country
When I head up into high country my doubts
stay back in the valley. For miles around me
a green kingdom of corn and clover extends,
bounded by barns and sugarbush. Up above
another world hangs, continents of cumulus
broken by bright blue seas of sky.
The next turn runs up the High Peaks, up into
the world of wind where cloud shadows dapple
the shoulders of mountains, where bald summits
of granite shine. If God so loved this world,
why should I not? Having never seen God,
only creation, it’s all I know of sweet shalom.
Note: unpublished draft