#9 ~ By The Rivers

So let the words of our mouths 

And the meditation of our hearts

Be acceptable in the sight

Of the lamb

It was a quiet mellifluous voice that seeped between half-parted lips. All around was the lively throbbing of speaking voices, the clattering of knives and forks, the hushed pockets of prickly silence. At times an excited laugh, mirroring a shy horses braying, swelled like an infantile eddy before subsiding. Still, through it all, this soft, warm-bodied sound seeped like an ostinato, coating, highlighting and embellishing the talkative mood.

By the rivers of Babylon

Where we sat down…

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