Wait for it

So I waited and waited
Turned off my world
Stopped chasing
Ceased to be available
Lost touch
Disconnected
Detached
Turned in
Tuned out
Sang with saints

All was quiet

First the rains came
Then gray skies
Dry winds
Shortness of breath
Voice lost in vast emptiness
I walked on
Beyond knowing

Mysterious surroundings
One familiar face
Peace I found
Contentment is home
There my heart is.

Time to cross over
giants or no.

Jordan's song.

Prayer in motion
Peace in chaos
Stillness on the fly

Milk and honey overflowing

The Place of Splendor by Jessica Powers

Little one, wait.
Let me assure you this is not the way
to gain the terminal of outer day.

Its single gate
lies in your soul, and you must rise and go
by inward passage from what earth you know.

The steps lead down
through valley after valley, far and far
past the five countries where the pleasures are,

and past all known
maps of the mind and every colored chart
and past the final outcry of the heart.

No soul can view
its own geography; love does not live
in places open and informative.

Yet, being true,
it grants to each its Raphael across
the mist and night through unknown lands of loss.

Wait till you hear
light told in music that was never heard,
and softness spoken that was not a word.

The soul grows clear
when senses fuse: sight, touch and sound are one
with savor and scent, and all to splendor run.

The smothered roar
of the eternities, their vast unrest
and infinite peace are deep in your own breast.

That light-swept shore
will shame the data of grief upon your scroll.
Child, have none told you? God is in your soul.