Intimate Spaces

I sit where predawn light falls.  
I warm the pew, await
first rays to come and shadows to flee.
Twilight’s birdsong crescendos
echoes my utterance to Christ.

Inside this sheltered space
coloured glass magnifies 
the arrival of ancient rays,
matai timbers warm, expand 
keep cold air away. 

Timber floors and walls tell tales
of flowing sap - tall trees 
whose breath once praised the Lord. 
On iron roof sparrows’ feet patter, 
foraging in gutters for windblown seeds.

Here amidst creation’s sounds, 
my mind enters Sabbath rest,
Christ’s Spirit communes
where spirit meets soul,
where blood joins breath.

Within this space of bone and flesh, 
love’s numinous presence, 
beautifully tacit, penetrates
my life-breath, voice and mind:
reopens life to the gifts of God.

© Craig A Roberts, 2021

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