Most Holy One,
You are always inviting
Like the creaking wooden swing on my grandmother’s screened porch
always moving in space.
Filling my imagination with boxes of old books and magazines written before I was born.
Satisfying my longing for quiet, silence, solitude.
Beckoning me to become a maker of words
and a lover of You.
May I never forget the movement of that swing, rocking like a cradle.
May I always remember to listen for Your invitation.
May I be brave and trusting enough to answer the Yes that leaps into Your arms.
I hear and feel the rocking… thanks Sarah.
I’ve read your poem/prayer several times today. It gives me such comfort and serenity.
I have to chuckle when I think of my Maw Maw and Paw Paw’s front porch swing, my favorite part of their quite modest home in a small, rural Louisiana town. I used to spend many hours of my summers there, watching my grandparents do the most hilarious things . . . like a snuff spitting contest to see who could get the most distance. And watching my Paw Paw standing on his head – yep! He was in his 80’s at the time. Such playfulness and joy.
Thank you for sharing your many gifts with us.
Jackie Rose firstname.lastname@example.org