It’s the fourth day of Christmas and I’m sitting at my dining table while shadows play on the Advent wreath and the dishwasher hums.
The post-holiday lull has begun, that in-between time where memories of enjoying my family’s company, complete with six noisy grandkids, partner with a looking-forward frame of mind to a new year and a new book.
Hearts on Pilgrimage-Poems & Prayers is allllmoooost finished; the final touches are being added to the cover and I am working on the electronic download of the book as well. Since I’m self-publishing the process is a little nerve-wracking as all the details of content, design and cover are up to me (and a remarkable design gal for who I am eternally grateful.) Come mid-January we should be ready to launch. I so look forward to having some poetic inspiration available and in readers’ hands soon. The book will be available on Amazon and orderable wherever books are sold.
If you’d like be one of the first to receive an announcement of the book’s release, just click HERE.
In the meantime, may I offer you the title poem?
Since I am coming to that holy room…
I shall be made thy music. -John Donne
Our journey home begins
daily with the sun. And a map.
Oriented by true north, that
compass which magnets
us in subtle, insistent ways, we move.
Deep and invisible, His song draws
us on as we come ’round again
in a thousand turns to the sound
of that voice.
We are Peregrinus, pilgrims
wandering place to place,
straining for an echo of melody,
words to a song we forgot we knew.
Forever we crease and fold our maps,
spilling tea as we travel, stain and blur
lines as we learn the way.
We look up. Scan the signs,
slow down, take note.
No. Not a map, a musical score,
vellum notes traced over time
played on heart’s harp, tuning
our ears ever more finely to the
pitch, not of His voice, but His tent,
that dwelling place where we finally
meno with Him. Home at last.