Just wanted to share a poem that I wrote this past weekend while sitting on the windowsill of my room, overlooking my favorite view of the Umbrian countryside. It's still a work in progress, but I thought I'd post it because it describes a lot of how I am feeling in my last week or so here. I am still praying that the Lord would help transition my heart and prepare me for going home. It's been a beautiful adventure here and I am incredibly thankful.
Lofty Places
From lofty places, on rooftops and windowsills
The world below seems small, manageable.
The grand villas I passed,
the cypresses and vineyards that overtook my senses
appear from this vantage to be nothing more
than a patch of green or a doll’s house on a hill.
Perched in this elevated place I could reach out
And gather the deep valley in my arms.
I could pick of bouquet of trees or
catch a swallow as it swoops and dives.
But I cannot take them with me when I leave this place.
I could try to possess them,
But I would be like the disappointed photographer,
who tried to take the sunset home
and left with nothing but a flattened image.
Yet he took the photo,
Feeling relieved that he could look at the sunset again later.
He could pull out that picture,
Hold it in his hands.
His memory will remind him of the golden light
Sinking slowly behind the mountains,
Leaving a gradient of rosy pink, marigold, teal and
a vast blue sky that awaits the arrival of the stars.
He tried to own the view but lost it instead.
I cannot take this place with me,
It cannot be possessed from this lofty place.
Instead I must learn to enjoy
these moments of beauty as they pass.
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