Dunmow

I think I want Thee to be in the chapel
Where I feel I can listen more clearly
And cleanly, for the silence is transparent,
And peaceful, like sacred music; precise and definite,
Like the notes played by an unseen maestro’s hand.

The Holy Spirit whispers softly in the trees
Birds cry overhead in the radiance of the skies.
Planes whistle and whirr like solitary bumble bees
Seeking honey in pollinic places.

Prayers are said in silence or read on mobile phones
Fingers delicately and humbly touch each other in tones
Of wistful, humble pleas for mercy, understanding, for sharing
Love and peace, goodwill and magnanimity.

Oh for that majesty, that greatness of soul
That axle of light at the centre of the wheel
Of life, that has its being in each part of the whole
And is the WHOLE, the purpose and the seeing,
The here and now and what is past and what will be,
Together all in grace, the gift of harmony.

But here and now, I talk and walk with Thee:
A trillion, simultaneous seconds of serenity. O Holy Hand
That places blessings on my head for all eternity;
Our Saviour’s gift of gentle mercy, the feathery dove of immortality.

When the Jew and Indian embrace our Lord Jesus Christ then will the world
Rejoice in the fulfilment of God’s prophecy.