Kindled by Sabbath and Shalom

Railroaded underground

we run panting, limping

from station to station. Your

words open doors to the last

safe house before freedom’s

border. Together we dine around

tables bulging with sustenance,

scented with shalom, and lit with

warm  wisdom. No longer famished,

bruised, or weary we hold hands

and give thanks as our eyes reflect

light from Sabbath candle blessings.

(This is a tribute to some great men who have changed my world in every way. They all swim against the current and speak words of life. When they die, all of us will know what they were for. 

Blessed are the feet of those who bring good news. I wish I could wash these feet......wet them with my tears and dry them with my hair.)