Soft white cotton candy clouds float lazily on high.

A myriad of stars sparkle against the blue-black sky,

Competing for attention with the glow of city lights.

I can sense God's nearness, as I take in all these sights.

The cold night's icy fingers send shivers from toes to head,

The midnight desert air is still: for the wind has gone to bed.

She has gathered her little breezes, and gently tucked them in

Still, I wrap my arms around myself, as bumps rise on my skin.

I hear the whirring sound of tires racing along the street.

A siren wails in the distance, an emergency to meet.

Nothing outside my garden wall can steal my reverie.

The garden I call "my place", is where God whispers to me.

Dawn Tucek (c)1997