I go there within to the quiet place. It is my salvation, the balm that soothes gaps in time. I nestle there where the cave is covered and the light dim to glow. I need but a little to carry me. I see even when the flame blows in sway. Nothing is lost there. The shadow reveals the wall, and it is the wall on which I carve prayers that I remember never to forget:
~You are the way, and I go there along the path of the way to you.~
I have called loudly your name in the night when the dark lifts and skies break. It echoes, wafting toward the ears of me hearing the answer. Where go I inside arms so vast they have carried me for lifetimes and beyond? They carry me still. I am raised above water that my breathing flows. I am lifted above mountains the way of ease and grace. My gratitude like a river rushing in. I can still see the dust, how I lingered long on my knees in celebration of the all given by the All. You are a way-maker. You make clear the way even when the path is less and the unknown more. I steady still my standing. I want only to be where you have guided me. It is there that clarity speaks. It is there that you part life’s bounty.