The group sits silently,

Listening attentively to the actions in a heart not understood,

But felt.

With each week, encircling the center of the labyrinth,

Moving ever closer towards a grace filled core.

The Eucharist and their lives.

 

Now, weeks later, the graces ooze out,

Uncontrollably, at home, in others faces, at times of prayer,

It is understood.

The source emits its glow,

And turns love into action.

And action into love.

 

I cannot hold your desires any longer.

So Jesus … I will love, with your love.

Lawless and beautiful.

Boundless and immutable.

And spread it where you take me.

 

With this Eucharistic Energy …

 

 

Slowing to a crawl now,

The stream wanders in a different mode,

Than when started at the top of the mountain.

 

Days of racing and driving through the land,

Splitting fences and boundaries as I flew,

Are over.

 

Today a more peaceful, reflective pace,

As I saunter through the trees.

 

Yet, still wanting to change the landscape.

 

 

 

Running towards somewhere,

The architect draws an image of how steel will provide function,

While talking to the soul of the passerby.

 

Providing of course. They look upwards …

 

Here I stand,

Lining the walkway to another entrance,

Just some nice punctuation in a run-on sentence,

Designed to break up the monotony of your daydreaming.

 

With something beautiful.

 

 

Close enough, I don’t want to scare them.

But I really want to touch them,

Her babies are so big and cute.

 

But I will wait ….

 

The lily beams quietly in the sunshine,

Dulling all the shadows around her.

Calling all pollinators for a reproductive feast,

Only nature can express,

Without the innuendo and agendas of man.

 

Can I go into the world this way?

For one day …

 

Sharing a joy needs little explanation,

No words,

No conversation,

Just smiles filled with goodwill,

And grace.

 

As the greatest gift, a new perfect creation,

Is beheld.

 

Feeling tall, huge in fact,

Towering over the others I see in front of me,

My height, noticed before, places me above all,

Not in a controlling way,

But different.

 

I feel separated, as if I wasn’t there,

Yet I am strangely more present,

Waiting for some response from God,

Who placed me here to observe something new.

 

Which I do, but cannot discern its meaning.

 

When I see the rock, I am unsure of what may be ahead.

A cooled down fragment of creation,

Heated beyond imagination, yet somehow solid,

Sturdy, ready to be felt underfoot,

To help me be uplifted if I want to climb,

Giving me views and vistas of my dominance of the earth when I reach the top.

 

Or perhaps, just to recognize my smallness.