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