The pews and the smell became secondary to the person

next to me and the buzz  I felt in my feet.

I saw rivers and land and a patch of

wildflowers that grew taller than my youngest brother.

I saw the sweat of a preacher and the

dark wood that lined the altar.

The river, wide and coursing met the horizon

without asking to meet.

I see a woman that is my mother reaching towards me

and her mother and my daughter

who will lead me home.

The warmth of the sun and the worn wood

guides me there and I know

that in the hot quiet there will be you

and the stillness is not in disquiet.

And still the sound, I hear over the water it vibrates

in the stone wall that surrounds

my house and

it cannot be forgotten.

Never forgotten clinging to the blades

of grass like dew.

I grip the handles of my chair and close my eyes

and see those blades of grass, the stone wall, the water.

The wildflowers, growing taller than my youngest son.

This hour as any other hour.

Because of Amazing Grace

Trudi Lee Richards

Trudi Lee Richards, writer and poet-bard of Silo’s Message, is the author of Confessions of Olivia; On Wings of Intent, a biography of Silo; Soft Brushes with Death; Fish Scribbles; and Experiences on the Threshold. In the pre-internet past she published Human Future, an independent review published from 1989-96 in San Francisco, CA; and was co-founder of La Mamelle, a San Francisco arts publication from the '70s. A graduate of Stanford University, she is the mother of five grown kids/stepkids and five step grandkids. She currently lives in Portland, Oregon.