I stand on the mountain.
Searching for a voice, but
There is nothing.
Only the chattering sounds of religion.

Thundering, crushing, empty.

I seek the voice of God!
The voice and the presence,
Word and Spirit,
Knit together in harmony.

Am I alone in the wind and the storm?

The covenant is broken,
The altars thrown down,
The prophets impaled,
And I am under a death sentence!

Yet nothing!
Even as the earth shakes,
And fire explodes,
I am left empty by the noise of living!

I return to the shadow of the cave,
broken and desperate,
afraid and alone,
I lay in the sudden silence!

Only then,
Silent weight falling upon me,
Do I hear the gentle whisper,
That draws me forward,
In shame, I cover my face!

Standing at the cave’s entrance,
Afraid to move into the presence on the mountaintop,
Hearing the gentle words,
Why are you here?

I’m tired, Lord!

What am I to do?

In soft reply,
The clear message.
Return to the wilderness. Go! Return!
Complete your assignment!

Do all I have spoken!
I am with you in silence.
Even to the end of the age!

It is enough…

© John A. Taylor, 2015

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