There is something about these spaces

Here on the Plains

This opening to wind and sky that makes something possible here

Like this mosque and church and synogogue sharing ground together

Where else does it happen but out here?, she asks,

Where there is room enough for everything?

I have made great circles through my life

Places I cannot go,

People I cannot see

Blocked away in my own small stories of guilt and shame,

A forgiveness I am unable to offer myself.

But out here on the Plains

I feel the loss in these small tight stories I have told to make sense of my life.

Out here, driving East into this great openness I pull over and make the call,

Make the connections I have been reluctant to make for years,

Go, where I have hesitated to go.

This time, instead of driving around,

Drive into and through the stories,

Find grace, and wind, welcome and wonder,

Why is it that I have lived too small?

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