Kids & Parenting

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When He Talks to God

The early morning hours
brought me to the open highways
I'm listening now, on my knees
as he talks to God next to me.

I saw the mist hover over the deepest greens
among the tallest pines in long fields
with small steeple churches of Port Tobacco
where the rooster still brings up the sun.

Later I got lost in the bustle of footsteps
on cobblestone streets and red brick walkways
that still adorn Annapolis.

The bay opens up around her
Where night lanterns still keep traditions
that spill out of every shop and tavern,
like blue sky lost in every horizon of a sailors dream.


On the cool breezes that last a lifetime
and stretch out from the Seven River
to the Port of Baltimore

I feel this by your Grace
and know the sights and smells, yearning
to hear the clattering bells and foghorns
in the waterways when I am clothed
in the darkest, coldest part of winter.

I know the highways and see the daylight
slip under the wheels of this truck
that brings me closer to home.

All the things I have seen that reach me
where words are not spoken
but merely subjected visions that bring me home.

where I am wrapped in the Glory of love
as I kneel next to my son
when he talks to God.

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