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From Grace to Grace
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By Randy Rich
Other Poems by Randy Rich


Across autumn,

the Green Mountains rise in the silent white,

calling to the blackbirds, the red wings

moving in the rhythm of the barbed wire fences on the pine ridge.

It is almost dark, the temperamental movement of winter

ambles in the distance, such a lovely promise of grace

of cottonwoods with bare branches.  In the moon''s glow, I know

 the footsteps of the traveling music of the soul, I listen

to the heart beat of the holy city, rising across the stone.

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Submitted: Sunday, June 10, 2012

Last Updated: Sunday, May 21, 2017

About the Poet
I am married and have two beautiful children. I am a Professional Christian Counselor and Director of services for children at a local community mental health center.

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