the sight of sound

A loud rhythmic percussive sound
brought me peering out the second story window
to the unexpected view of two boys walking down the street,
one dribbling a basketball.

Now, maybe he was really pounding it into the pavement,
but the sight of the sound
was all disproportionate
to the expectations
generated by the sound of the sound.

One element of experience
abstracted from its context
loses appropriate proportion,

and testimonies of faith
make no sense
if removed from lives of faith.


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