where the people wave

I want to live where the people wave
where they know your story
where they kind of care that the lettuce didn't do so well this spring
or the plumbing backed up
or the baby won't sleep
'cause you kind of care

I want to live where men are know by the life lived and yet gracious to the fallen
where there is time for living and slow eating
where life is made step by step
and a new sunrise is a gracious golden gift

I want to live where the children grow like trees
rooting
shooting
reaching for light and hidden depth
becoming stable and strong
a shelter for the weak and small

Maybe I long for too much
this dusty traveler of earth
Maybe I long for home

Maybe I long for heaven


I was just driving home from work when I felt a strong urge, or wish maybe, to wave at the people I drove past, to be in community with them, to know them. And into my head popped the first line of this poem (doesn't it sound a little like that song in Ariel? lol)...or whatever it is. I couldn't wait to get home and find out where writing it would take me.