A Dappled Presence
Today, I found this. Wrote it last May. And it feels like a breath of hope...
Now that the leaves are full and present, the trees have a softer sound, a whisper instead of clacking, and the woods are filled with dancing shadows, a tenderness, a gliding of dappled presence.
A little brown bird is in the prickle pines. Climbing sideways up the tree, pecking. Life out here... travels upside down and sideways, pure vertical and horizontal, under the darkness of a needle blanket. It seems there is no direction that is off-limits in this place.
The mourning dove flutters in with her chirruping. What used to surprise and awe me has turned to the sweet comfort of familiar sounds — I find a deeper rest in the stability of this place and its attendant characters.
Two dark gray birds just "kissed" — a peck from beak to beak... I could lie here all day and never be bored or restless.
"Give me your lantern and compass, give me a map...So I can find my way to the sacred mountain, to the place of your presence." Psalm 43, The Message translation
Now that the leaves are full and present, the trees have a softer sound, a whisper instead of clacking, and the woods are filled with dancing shadows, a tenderness, a gliding of dappled presence.
A little brown bird is in the prickle pines. Climbing sideways up the tree, pecking. Life out here... travels upside down and sideways, pure vertical and horizontal, under the darkness of a needle blanket. It seems there is no direction that is off-limits in this place.
The mourning dove flutters in with her chirruping. What used to surprise and awe me has turned to the sweet comfort of familiar sounds — I find a deeper rest in the stability of this place and its attendant characters.
Two dark gray birds just "kissed" — a peck from beak to beak... I could lie here all day and never be bored or restless.
"Give me your lantern and compass, give me a map...So I can find my way to the sacred mountain, to the place of your presence." Psalm 43, The Message translation
Labels: prayer of reflection, Secret Place
posted by L.L. Barkat at
1:22 PM
6 Comments:
Yesterday I found comfort in the call of a mourning dove I heard all day outside my window. Was wishing I could but words to the experience, so it was sweet to find the like here.
It is hard to pray now. And so I read your words wistfully, gratefully. Making them my own until Spring returns to the dry soul. The spiritual loneliness is eased by a virtual companion who shares a longing and living for God. Thank you!
This morning on our way to church, one of my daughters commented that the clouds in the sky looked like waves of grace.
Then she thought a little longer and listened to the worship music playing on the CD player and piped up, "Cool! The clouds match the music!"
Miriam... that is beautiful. I'm glad you found words here.
Joelle... make them yours, yes. Sometimes we have no words of our own. I am glad to be a companion to you in a time of loneliness.
Erin... how sweet. :)
Some days you just see things, don't you. There they are and you see them. And then other days. Nothing.
Real Live Preacher
This gave me a little shiver.
Beautiful.
You have a gift with words.
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