The Call

Where my expression ends, silence,
there I sense your rhythm for this day.

Your touch shifts my poise and pace,
in solitude your kairos sensed.

Sketch, wrangle, struggle, wrought words for Christ,
Yet too be still, let words arrive.

© Craig A Roberts, 2022
From Waymarks: Pilgrim Journeys.
Open Access Online 

Photo: Adobestock

Spread the love