I just spent a few days with a group of guys retreating together. They were a great group. I wrote this poem as I sought to discover the gift we had over the day or so that we were together.
The desert the place where my soul is led,
Seeking the quiet whisper of truth,
In the midst of a thousand temptations,
A multitude of voices crying, “me first”,
With their selfish clamour for my attention,
Retreat demands a space for a quieter voice.
The path to desolations that cry out their pain,
The desert my place to visit their questions,
Surprised by their truthful lament and my sadness,
Reminders of the promised land for his beloved,
And, the beautiful conversation spoken in psalms,
Retreat brings me home to the place most loved.
The truth of the shepherd walks beside me now,
I am found in the story starting in Eternity’s heart,
Trust guides each step into the parched wilderness,
Uncertainty’s unknown path is where it begins,
My soul’s desire is given it’s beautiful surprise,
Retreat is communion with the Holy in me.