finally here at Vineyard Shiloh.
The gate opens, an ancient affair in mouldy white wood. A family of ants stops in a brief stare then plods towards sloping acres of fine rain. The path runs muddied, via naked street lights hung low. Like lamps to my feet, this is real. This is where Energy hits, a high octane that my vocabulary isn’t familiar with, not totally.
The Gardener says watch the slope, it drains soil. He gives me sandals from a shack, a tiny room, blue gray roofing –
to the left is a cane wood table in the shade of a tree I cannot recognize, and a stream – clear water. Psalm 23 dazzlesy eye. “He leads me by still waters, He rests my soul..yeah though we walk via the valley of the shadow, I fear no evil, You are with me…”
What’s Shiloh?
For now am in the Psalm.
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