Sanctuary 

Water trickles down the creek,
bouncing off rocks and singing
like a child in summer.

Wind blows through the willows,
rustling softly, like silk.
Somewhere, birds sing.

It is morning and you are alone
with your restless mind,
your thoughts babbling in the background

as you slow your heart,
as you quiet its fears
and prepare for battle,

as you open it, deliberately,
exposing it to those who if history is correct
would trample it and leave it on the battlefield,

another casualty of casual love and blind hate.
Somehow though, it is still your shield,
stronger than the weapons of the mind,

it has endured,
fed by the promise
of still, still waters.

You breath. Deeply in. Deeply out.
You share the air with the mountains,
with the wild around you,

at peace with your aloneness.
glad for it even,
for this chance to let the dust of life settle,
if only for this short while,
glad for sacred spaces
that appear like magic,
which perhaps,
they are.

About this poem

The picture was taken during a walk with a friend. He took me around a corner and “Boom!”, I was in a perfect sanctuary of water and willows.

I live alone. But I am not lonely.

Today’s devotional Bible verse in my readings was Psalm 23.

From that mix of things, this poem

Tom