There are times when I am with you
When there is no beginning or ending of time
When the day is dateless
And the rhythm of time
Has ceased to record the hours
And the calendar, the days;
When no birds sing, but rest;
And no winds blow, but breathe.
And the air is drenched
With the white silence of love
And my fingers trace
The lineaments of your face.
Source: Kieling, JT (ed.) 2005, The Gift of Prayer: A Treasury of Personal Prayer From the World’s Spiritual Traditions, EW Dwyer (Australia) Pty. Ltd., p. 55.
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