I close the doors to stop the draft
and still myself in front of the icon of the cross.
Inside me there is a flame flickering.
Candle wax runs like molten glass
and the mind slowly finds its level
I want my flame to burn high and strong
but the fuel gets drained by the efforts of life.
God, let the powerful acts of your loving hands
correct any mistakes that I make
rushing from one thing to the next.
You invite me to stay
in your presence
again and again, always.
I give my life to your service.
I prepare a beautiful space
for others to join us in community.
I pull out some weeds when I pass the jungle of a garden,
of long summer evenings shared with friends
unknown to us yet.
For those moments,
for all the months and years
and embrace the coming day.
Mist hangs over the valley.
I push on the pedals
and glide through the motionless rusty autumn scene.
A painting, freshly hung up to dry
this morning, for me.
I inhale the saturated air
and become one with the leaves maturing in the season,
the swans on the river
and the silent hills.