Chips On The River

A procession of saddened souls
Have been seen making their way
To a golden opportunity
In Nashville Tennessee
A place of healing
Where fellowship places itself in a circle
Beneath a tent on the banks of the Cumberland River
And men there bare witness
To miracles and sorrows, and sometimes
Cry themselves to sleep

It is an island, a safe haven
Where conversation sews together open wounds
And rigorous self exploration
Changes broken men with open minds
Into men of steely faith
It is a limbo, placed halfway to the home they seek
A workshop where they might craft the oars
With which to row themselves upriver

It is a timeless oasis
Where trials and tribulations
Are placed in picture frames for those who aim to see
For those who seek themselves
And for those who seek a sober mind

For me
Chips on the river
Will always be
The place where I found God

Tony Taylor  (Chicago)