That secret space;

The place I go alone to seek His face;

A quiet, questioning encounter in His safe embrace;

Silent, still, and list’ning there I go.

Music there;

Notes unknown and known play sweet and pure;

They float and fly above imagination without care;

Then rest and speak a language no one knows.

I linger long;

To understand wisdom that I thought gone;

His tender voice carries a message needed, soft and strong;

A molecule and mountain always there.

Original poetry by Connie Pease; Images: pexels-valiphotos-589816.jpg; lake-at-sunset-pexels-photo-248800.jpeg; bird-s-eye-photography-of-mountain-1624496.jpg