ann kiemel

i can hear the wind

pushing pebbles and sticks

and noise and chaos... almost

enough rhythm to start up the band.

to blow the horns and tap the drums

and march to the cadence of 

Heaven's choir.

i often used to sing a little song to

children in my neighborhood...and abroad:

"lonely voices crying in the city.

lonely voices sounding like a child.

lonely voices come from busy  people...

too afraid to stop a little while...."

i travelled from san francisco to washington, d.c.

to bid farewell to chuck colson via the memorial

service.  tears fled from my eyes, and down my

soul, and i longed for one last chat.  one more

letter.  another message.  just one more. tomorrow

i will tell you a few moments that God DID give me.

it feels so good to be back with

all of you.  we follow in the wake of

a noble warrior that God decided had done

more than enough service for the Master.

the wind in the trees becomes quiet.

and gathering storms howl out the message

that even in loneliness, there can be joy.