Playing tuba

A poem written today at the Valley and Mountain Fellowship, Rainier Valley in Seattle. 

preaching consolation
I walk in beauty
my ears sharp to your voice
my eyes peeled for
any stray ray of light

when I visit the time and place
of my own death
I remember the future

when I feed the hungry
I feed my own soul
when I seek peace
I am delivered unto peace
when I listen to you
my voice is magnified

I am a drum major for justice, for righteousness
and I play tuba in the marching band
of the Kindom of Heaven