Snapshots
From behind the eave of my front porch
a light flashed so bright
and bounced back into my eyes from
the window panes across the street
that I was rendered temporarily blind.
God was taking snapshots tonite,
and He just took mine.
He caught me sitting there
in my rocking chair,
a blues tune pouring its melancholy voice
onto the street and away into the night.
A soulful, mourning song of lost and found blue jeans.
He caught my mind in a place far away,
thinking of drum beats and old gospel songs
and sad times
when men would sing of their pain and sorrow.
When my day of reckoning comes to hand,
I know God will take out His photo album.
He'll see me in that pose of serenity,
and He'll know I wasn't always being bad.
Copyright © 1997