Like a pool to my soul are Your blessings, Holy One,

In this parched, arid desert of dreams.

Day by day they elude me as natural or chance,

For the eye knows not what is and what seems.

But with each single droplet fresh visions appear,

And like Adam, we’re called to respond–

To wake to Your presence and a lessening of fear,

Or to idly stand by in the pond.

Either way, Spiris essence will anoint as with oil.

Either way, You will call us by name

To account for the seeds we have sown in Your soil,

To our part in kindling Love’s flame.

*From my journal*