Farmers’ Market Gathers.

In the midst of brilliant peppers
And a sausage link or two
And some crimson lilies potted
And some line-ups to get through,
I have paused and felt
The throat-lump,
And a slight bit teary-eyed.
It was these, the carefree shoppers,
It was these for whom You died.
And they scarcely give an instant
In the bustle of this day
To give thanks unto their Maker
To reflect and pause and pray.
To admit the present moment
As they pass the baking stand
Is a moment more of mercy
Held  entirely in your Hand.