Waiting

You are always there
In a quiet room
Waiting for me
To come to you.

This morning in
A hilly field,
Sitting on the corner
Of a stone cattle trough,
Listening to the water
Tumbling down the hill
Into the silent river,
Watching the crows
Fly to work
Across the sky,
Why was I surprised
To find you there?

Lord, teach me
To leave space
In my mind
So that you
Can always be there.

Alice Taylor, ‘Praying Place’