Dome Valley - a tiny warmth within highlights the sign
That marks the turnoff from the southbound highway.
But I don’t turn. I keep going toward a familiar metropolis.
And the next morning I find out that the person I seek
Is half an hour East. That is further than I thought.
I board the interstate and drive.
The suburbs stretch out
Mile after mile,
But then begin to thin
As I rise, rise, upon the back
Of some small range
Of mountains.
I crest the summit
And again see a sign - Dome Valley.
Something swells within me as I gaze down
Upon the green fields of lettuce and kale.
And it wraps me up in the sweet knowing
That I have again found the sheltering cloud and fiery pillar.
Thank you, dear God, that this is home for a while
And that I have a work to do here
A person to love and find
And a healing to receive
As I rest beneath
The canopy
That you spread over all those
Who keep moving toward the holy place.
