My mother
(clean and upright
in a white nightgown
bleached whiter by chill florescent lights)
is unable to recall my name,
yet suddenly belts out
"I've gotta home in Gloryland
that outshines the sun…"
in a voice so clear and strong,
it echoes down the green corridor,
through the empty cafeteria,
and out into the drizzle of the parking lot–
so clear and strong
that she is once again a girl of twelve
standing on fragrant chips of cedar
in the screened-in auditorium
hidden in the Michigan woods
to which my grandparents trundled her
on occasional summer Sunday evenings.
She remembers every word
and, when done, grins at me,
then launches into the next verse:
"I took Jesus as my Savior,
you take him too…"

 Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.