A crow flies over the ball field
its wings barely lit by the sun
almost to the top of the yellow pines.
(my pastor is leaving)
The sun moves up
inside the chapel
simplicity welcomes
the reflections
of bluebirds
fading into the walls
(my pastor is leaving)
The pews are stained with my tears
echoes of my quiet cries to God,
give me strength
mix mud with my eyes
so i may see
A hawk flies over Peachtree Creek
where the shallow ford was crossed
(my pastor is leaving)
Childrens feet and prayer hands
clap and scramble
ring bells and sing
greet and grow
loud and boisterous
like the wild geese
announcing their place
heading away from here
(my pastor is leaving)
Faith is not sedentary
Faith must instigate and take flight
like this church
and the seasons
an the crow
and the bluebirds
and the hawk
and the wild geese
and the holy spirit
Our pastor is on the move.
We are all in flight.
–Chris Buechner 2018