Curtis Johnson | + Follow Poet |
Narrative | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

A People and a Place I Love

There was a place, supposedly, that was my home.
I was born and grew up in that Southern place.
My family was great, but that place, not so much.
I heard it said that home is where your story began.
But honestly, that place was never really home to me.

There is a neighborly place, saturated with love and grace.
It's a church community in a river city of trees, situated                                                                                              
In a valley of beautiful sunrises and sunsets between                                                                                                    
The High Sierras, Lake Tahoe, and The Deep Blue Sea.

Sure, we were looking for a new church home,
But I was not in a hurry and did not want to go there.
For years, after going, I never really wanted to be there.
For years, I was uninvolved and behaved like one who didn't care.

And then, that friendly church became a place like none other.
Like being knitted together with family, a sister, or a brother.
Like a place of renowned, to cherish and to treasure.

When I think about our 28 years there, I realize it was the dearest.
A place where success was rewarded, and failure did not cause one
'To be less than', to run, to hide, to pretend, or to feel disregarded.

A place where rejected and weak ones can once again become strong.
A place, not about who's right or wrong, but about finding where one belongs.
A place where one could say, "Leave me alone", and not fear being left alone.

O, you may say it's time to move on and find a new place to roam.  Make no Mistake, We have moved on; but 'that pastor' will aways be 'my pastor',         
And 'that church' will always be 'my church'.

031722PS

Please Login to post a comment