A week of unseasonably mild weather
right when July wilts into August,
the worship song that unlocks every barrier
in your brain and makes you feel
close to God again,
the taste of the season’s first fresh tomato,
the sibling who is always willing
and usually able to do what needs to be done,
an eloquent encouragement
from a friend whose sincerity
is beyond suspicion,
an old photograph of you
and someone you love
in one of your favorite moments,
a quote you come across
that seems to have been written
for that particular time,
an unexpected friend who finds you
in the parking lot before loading the groceries,
a little while spent outdoors
in the cool of evening air with chairs turned
facing one another,
sensing the speaking of the Spirit
in the midst of some mind-jangling perplexion.

Connections such as these
and ten thousand others
lay soothing touch upon the needing heart,
like gentle rain on parched earth,
the Son of Man still moving
among miles of sinners aching in the shadows
of stone streets, brown fields and brick tenements.

H. Arnett
7/29/14