Beside the low oak table
Clear now of all clutter so
The beauty of the honey oak glows,
Ready to receive
News of thresholds ahead waiting for me.
I cannot know in advance
What will be born with ink
Flowing from the fountain pen
At first like a hesitant stream and then a river.
A table cleared, empty, readied,
A heart listening in silence, longing for what will appear that is whole hearted.
So I can begin again each day,
With an open table and
An opened page and readied pen.
What will they see and feel and speak?
And what will come forth from somewhere deep,
An unexplored corner
A presence hiding for years until it is safe to come out,
A voice waiting to speak but also waiting to be asked?
Could the photographs that surround me
Tell me of my unfolding?
Can these moments
Created when I was wholeheartedly focused,
Reveal what today I will turn away from
Because I cannot give myself wholeheartedly?
I want to remember where I long to saunter and to hear the mysteries.
I want to remember where I can write without interruption.
The day begins in
That one comfortable chair
Surrounded by moments of contentment.
I am trusting that in the silence
I’ll be led from who I am
Into the person I have yet to become.
© John Holliger 2014