Dew clings to grass in late morning sun,
Sun pours warmth on shoulders and arms.
Bibles lay open with fingers turning pages,
As the Spirit prompts.
Ink flows from pen to paper,
As stories pour from soul to lips.
Flowers, trellis, and gravel paths surround this escape,
Retreat in the heart of a city.
God speaks in the midst of a Monday,
Beauty.
Beautiful.
I need to do this soon.