Cenacle is not a place for the timid.

The fire within
burns.
The gathering
costs.
The labouring
tires.

But deep in the hidden heart of the meeting
I find love and it will not let me go.

It is this unbidden passion that sends me forth to you.

The space inbetween the floods
is crying out for attention.

When, oh when!

When,
will you listen?

Uncurl your toes,
stretch out your longing,
step into the seeping newness
of your broken life.
It sings.

'By day the Lord will send
his loving kindness;
by night I will sing to him,
praise the God of my life.'

Psalm 42

May I welcome your kindness,

open out my thinking.

Receive from you,

by night,

by day.

And who knows what song will emerge?

It will be for you.

The touch of the grass beneath my feet grounds me in the midst of turmoil.
Take the time to feel it.
Allow the softness and the bristle to awaken my senses from their slumber.
Let the silence at the heart of it all
speak words of wisdom,
breathe thoughts of peace.

Colour .... drink it in

It feeds the soul ...

It is you whom I invoke, O God.
In the morning you hear me;
in the morning I offer you my prayer,
watching and waiting.

Psalm 5

You are my shelter, my shade, my guard, my help
You are my rock, my shield, my stronghold.
Be with me this day.

May I be aware of your presence
step by step.

'I will sing to the Lord all my life,
make music to my God while I live.'

Psalm 104

My joy comes from you,

circling down to the roots of my life.

'That I might know how to speak to the weary ... Morning after morning he opens my ear that I may hear.'

Isaiah 50:4

Morning after morning,

as day follows night,

you are with me.