In all your quiet ways my spirit wakes, Like dawn that steals through shutters, soft and slow. Oft have I wondered how your presence makes Veil’d parts of me take courage yet to grow.
Each day my hushed and inward-seeking mind Yields when your voice through shaded mem'ry moves. O’er every folded fear your light I find, Undoing shadows with the truth it proves.
You are the innermost of all my days, The final form within my layered soul. No ornament, nor craft of human praise, Could name the warmth by which you make me whole.
So stand I now, my guarded heart undone, For in your gaze a thousand worlds are one.
I am captivated by beauty, questions that dig to the center of things, and people who tell the truth about the human experience.
View all posts by Jill Szoo Wilson
Necessary Whispers 