Still trying to get that larger perspective. Sometimes it really does seem like everything depends on who one is standing next to as a point of comparison.
It sometimes seems
It all depends
On who I*m standing next to,
Or who preached last week
Or who the intern was
Last year.
When I really get into comparisons
It all hangs on
Who came before
Looked better
Spoke better
Sold himself herself better,
While I continued to pay attention to
The geraniums by the front door
The woman in the front office
Whose ninety-some year old mother
Died
Right after the power failure.
Sometimes I know
It really depends
On the One who stands on the moon
Notices the way the rivers
Flow
HowThe snow melts into them,
The way the geraniums fit
Into the whole picture,
The woman who grieves
And still answers the phone.
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