As I sit a robin sings his morning song,
tea in hand, dog in my lap
I wait expectantly,
I listen . . .
all I hear are crows, and wrens.
Where are you?
It has been so long since
I felt your presence.
I long to feel your touch on my cheek,
to hear your whispers in my ear.
I want to be enfolded in your Holy embrace
I search my heart for you.
I seek you in the eyes of those I meet.
I cannot find you, and
without you I am lost.
There is so much to tell you, but . . .
you are not there to hear.
Patience I tell myself, you will come.
So like a Desert Mother I sit day after day and wait,
silent I sit.
Ruth Jewell, ©June 25, 2014
One thought on “Desert”
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