I looked through a magazine backwards
I walked for two hours taking pictures of the city
The words, “Seek the welfare of the city to which I sent you” greeted me
Somewhere between 22nd and Grace
I bowed my head more than twice a day to give thanks
I heard other people’s stories
I sat at the dinner table without a cell phone
Somewhere between 22nd and Grace
Someone that never met me had peanut butter cookies waiting on me
A garden still bloomed during the winter months
I heard a laugh that was contagious
Somewhere between 22nd and Grace
I entered a simple room to lay my head with a wooden plaque that read, “Our Lady of Lourdes Purity of Heart”
I was at Richmond Hill
The place that whispered to me, “your voice still has a message to share.”