Here is a little poem which tries to express what I have come to believe about the journey of repentance which all Christians take in some form or other. For while the act of turning toward God is the same, our journeys are as unique as snowflakes or drops of crystal. A small thing to honour St. Gregory the Theologian on his feast-day!
At Hand
Take joy from the simple act of turning,
From the golden gift of grace
Once given, again and again gained anew
With neither ending nor beginning,
A river ever flowing,
Each human heart its sea.
Pluck peace from the treasured truth of tears,
From creation’s very crucible,
Where dry bones dance and dust is made diamond
In the burning beauty of limitless love
Which spends itself in unspent mystery,
Weaving wonder from the leaves of wilted lilies,
Molding mortal mud into images of immortality.
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