God, I thank you for the place where no
one goes but you and I; for the secret field,
the tree, the rock, the corner in the house
where I may go and find myself again and,
in finding me, find you.
What longed-for-peace creeps in upon my heart,
when hidden in this secret place, I listen to
the silence and shortly lose that tightness
that held me fast, unhappy and afraid
In time I find I can look around at your quiet
things, the leaf so very near my head, the lines
on the board beneath my feet, or the bird that
scolds a bit because I am here, and flies away.
And when I've looked at those a while and rested
in the hush, I know that you are near
and I can find myself again.
