Timothy Narraway tssf writes:
O God who doesn’t slumber
You came to me in
the watches of the night
in the still small hours,
Before dawn was even a thought
In the black.
There rose on my bed to see
You there at the open door
In the guise of Francis
Dressed in robes of poverty
Beckoning me to come into the garden beyond
You are there. There in
The open door
The door which cannot be shut
Because You have opened it;
A door which speaks of a world beyond
Beyond imagination; in stillness;
A world waiting to be sung into existence
Endless horizons waiting to be explored
With the heart of a Troubadour.
“Come and walk (with Me) in the garden”
Not a journey alone, but a journey together
A journey whose invitation delights the heart,
Burning as if on the Emmaus road.
Longing for the undiscovered.
The sacred grove
Dancing in the Garden of God