Like a slight breeze
stirring a lace curtain at an open window,
like a blue winged dragonfly
setting off a single ripple across a still lake,
like a first snow fall
descending soft, hushing all,
so you are with us,
in your touch, your voice, your presence
moving in us,
awakening us to you.
Because of the tender mercies of our God…
the rising sun will come to us from heaven.
From Heaven at my Door by Juanita Ryan