There is a Presence who walks within me,
and because of this Presence,
I cannot be empty.
This One leads me to the quiet pastures of my own spirit,
where the grasses of peace grow wild,
and the waters remember their silence.
There my soul rests upon the earth
like a child against its mother’s chest.
When I forget myself,
He gathers me into remembrance.
When my path bends into shadow,
He straightens it with a whisper.
Even in the valley where sorrow casts long silhouettes
and fear imagines its own giants,
I do not tremble—
for Love steps beside me
and fills the hollow places.
His nearness becomes my lantern.
His guidance becomes my staff.
And the darkness, seeing such light,
forgets how to be darkness.
In the presence of all who doubted my becoming,
He lays a feast of quiet confidence
and invites my heart to eat its fill.
My wounds are anointed with tenderness,
and from my stillness,
a cup brims over.
Surely goodness follows me
as faithfully as breath follows life.
Mercy rises each morning
as though dawn were her only language.
And I…
I will dwell in the house of the Eternal—
the sanctuary of my own awakened soul—
for all that is eternal,
and all that flows beyond it.
By Keith Brown