front deck in the rain
still places to read and pray
to trace meaning in my days
light shifts and drifting leaves
grow still grow quiet
the winter snow falls, lifts
in the wind as everything sleeps
New Zealand slips into my world as our plane flies around earth's generous curve, crossing time zones, skipping through winter to land on a long luxurious humid summer day.
The wrap around deck in Paparoa
was waiting for me, and I found myself reading Tolkien in the rain, writing in the morning sun, watching a completely new world of son, of bird song and flight. (At dusk we often heard the strangely familiar sounds of wild peacocks!)
One evening a bird sound from behind me surprised me. Joel informed me that a little fantail often comes into the chapel in the evenings. They leave the doors and windows open, so she has discovered that she can freely fly in and out.
I followed her sounds and found her flitting around the drums and music stands; watched her for a while before returning to my chair on the deck.
and the southern cross emerges in the new night sky
orion's belt hangs upside down
as the summer evening breezes sift through the trees
The wind blows whereever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.
|view from the balcony in the rain|