Something Beautiful in Georgia

Something Beautiful in Georgia

That’s where she is tonight

under a Georgia sunset.

Odds are she isn’t thinking of me.

But I’m thinking of her.

There’s something beautiful in Georgia.

I’ve never seen her home,

never known her mailbox,

never learned her dog’s name

or what her father does.

No.

I met her in Texas

on a birthday trip.

She held me for an hour

soft, clean, almost unbroken,

with a recent hurt still on her.

There’s something beautiful in Georgia.

Her girlfriend was teaching the two-step.

I took her hand,

looked her in the eyes,

said, “It’s not that serious.”

We floated on concrete.

I spun her once,

said my name,

and walked away.

Hours later she was swinging

near a bar top.

I bought a drink and offered her one.

She smiled for her friends

and wanted to be somewhere else.

God puts you where you’re needed.

I walk in every room as though He sent me.

I wanted to make her feel at home.

I wanted to remind her of herself.

There’s something beautiful in Georgia.

Whoever held that heart last

will live a life of regret.

Deserves it I’m sure.

When perfect is in your hands

You don’t let go.

There’s something beautiful in Georgia.

It was her birthday.

We talked. We listened. We laughed.

Her friends hated every second

and wedged in after every chuckle.

I don’t fault them.

They were pushing a man

with wings and concrete boots.

I was only there to help.

She was smart.

She was funny.

She was kind.

A clean soul.

Faith wrapped in a bow.

Doing all she could to move on.

Not questioning God

just stunned by how heavy

the burden was.

She left the next day.

An early flight home.

A few of her words stuck.

I’ve written them since.

I hadn’t been moved

by a human so fast

not in a long time,

maybe not again.

Thankful for the hour.

Fleeting as it was,

it dances in my memory

like an old Georgia pine

swaying in the wind.

There’s something beautiful in Georgia.

I hope we meet again

when the tide goes out

and the moon hooks us both.

Until then,

I hope she laughs a little

when she thinks of me.

I hope she believes

she is where she is meant to be.

That the plan was never

all roses and no thorns.

That one day she’ll look back and smile.

I hope she knows

how amazing her smile is.

I hope she remembers

there’s something beautiful in Georgia.