Saddleback Song I saw the small islands across the waves from where the Saddlebacks will come. From offshore isles to coastal lands this forest dweller returns, with its feathered ways and colour long lost to this mainland, received by thick woods, made safe, waiting for Saddleback songs. Now the Holy Spirit’s breath is upon me, whispers the Father’s inspiration to arouse our barren lands - with no ordinary song. Not of institutions’ making but of Christ’s creation of inward journeys to intimate spaces, and safe sanctuaries in humble places. I yield to the Holy Trinity’s way of creating. It baffles description, so don’t peer ahead, don’t work out steps to be taken. Christ, shake me free of chimeras of my making, I treasure this season of Your preparation. Holy Spirit, amidst this mysterious wonder I pray, I praise, I ponder. Yahweh this vision breathes joy into the prayer of my soul. Your resurrection work prevails. I wait, I watch, I wonder, I praise with awe the unrelenting hesed of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, whose disruptions revive this land. © Craig A. Roberts, 2020
