Sunday

"The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath."

I live in a city knee-deep in bloodshed, fornication, poverty and vanity.
I long for the city where there will be no more tears.

Today I find myself in the terminal between the two.

I have not yet left my city
I can still feel its heavy, unpacked bags on my shoulders.
I am not yet to the new city
But I have my boarding pass.

I don't always but today I love the terminal.

It's far from perfect.
There are even some here who will miss the flight.
There are many who will board ahead of me.

But in the terminal I hear the Captain's voice.
In the terminal I see the bright lights.
In the terminal I am reminded the runway is long but does have an end.

In the terminal I am not home.

But I'm close.