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| Photo by Michael Hamilton |
I envy my nephew's "office," Lord:
the slopes of Alaska's Chugach Mountains
where he's a heli-ski guide...
How close to heaven the peaks,
how immense and profound
the snow fields' silence,
how clean the air,
the breath of grace,
the wind's eternal music
singing praise and glory...
My nephew's "office:"
a cathedral? a monastery?
a mountaintop retreat?
All of the above?
Well, Lord, I have no plans
to go heli-skiing in Valdez,
to visit Michael's "office,"
no prayerful pilgrimage
to your snowbound holy ground...
So I pray this morning:
to find you in the first light
streaming through my bedroom window,
to meet you in the bracing chill
of February's last few days,
to countenance your mystery
in tonight's full moon aglow,
to hear your voice, your word,
in the whispers of the wind,
to discover your real presence,
in the chapel of my world...
You're everywhere, Lord
and I've no need to travel far
to find the holy ground
where you walk each day beside me
in the chapel of creation,
the temple of your glory,
where I sing your praise and glory...
Amen.
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