Dome Valley - a tiny warmth within highlights the sign

That marks the turnoff from the southbound highway.

But I don’t turn. I keep going toward a familiar metropolis.

And the next morning I find out that the person I seek

Is half an hour East. That is further than I thought.

I board the interstate and drive.

The suburbs stretch out

Mile after mile, 

But then begin to thin

As I rise, rise, upon the back 

Of some small range

Of mountains.

I crest the summit

And again see a sign - Dome Valley.

Something swells within me as I gaze down 

Upon the green fields of lettuce and kale.

And it wraps me up in the sweet knowing

That I have again found the sheltering cloud and fiery pillar.

Thank you, dear God, that this is home for a while

And that I have a work to do here

A person to love and find

And a healing to receive

As I rest beneath 

The canopy

That you spread over all those

Who keep moving toward the holy place.