(I’ve decided to take a ‘brief’ break from the reflections on St. Romuald’s Brief Rule. Here’s a poem I wrote while on retreat in Big Sur, CA.)

To sit all day
facing the sun,
the warmth of it
burning the skin on my face.

Then to turn,
by instinct or invitation,
to face another way,
and there, unbidden,
large above the green hills,
the moon,
laughing at me:
“Here I am!”

And I
laugh back:
“Here I am!”

Here
I
am!