oh Holy Stranger,
You live on the edge of my sight,
the precipice of my heart,
standing surely in the threshold between my inner and outer world.
You do not beckon loudly.
You announce your invitation to listen
with echoes of patient silence,
breathing on the breeze that makes the trees outside my window tremble...
beating softly with the pulse of my heartbeat...
Lingering outside the doorway, I waste away precious minutes
reading a magazine, running errands, napping, sipping tea
your Shadow outlined in my mind...
Within my interior walls,
I languish, even though I know you are here...
I still choose my isolation as if were a security blanket,
but it is something I Know.
You, oh Holy Stranger,
Pose the threat of Life.
You, oh beautiful waiting One...
offer freedom, communion, and really, really hard work...
and if I invite You to step through
and speak to the deepest ground of my being,
will I listen?
Will I have the courage to see the Holy You?
Please, come in.
Speak to me.
Help me know You.
Goldilocks - photo taken September 2017
17 hours ago