Susan LaffertyStepping out into early morning air. First breath of dawn. Stillness.
Sky somewhere between dark and light.
Not even visible. Yet. But all creation anticipates the all-out glory of what’s coming.
Streetlights dim. Even the moon and stars fade. At the certain, steady rise of God’s sun.
Full light of day is coming.
Remember. Somedays the forgotten pieces of life surface. In old journals. Handwritten letters. Conversations.
Pointing out one experience. Leading to memories of another.
Recalling things hidden. Lost in the pace and race of living life on this planet.
Finding stories lodged beneath the years.
Legacy, unintentional.
From the least likely.
A poor widow
unnamed
obscure
hidden
in the shadows
of wealthy patrons.
Slipping in
behind
crowds and
considerable contributions
at the temple coffers.
