Lord, they will scold me.
Today I did not appear
at the men's breakfast,
the children's egg hunt.
I dared not disturb this great silence
with bacon or chocolates,
the savory, sweet minutiae
of parish life.
Today I need,
in simple solitude,
to live in Your absence,
let it sweeten Your return,
make real Your presence
at tomorrow's feast.
(From a poem by Bonnie Thurston, in To Pause at the Threshold, p. 78)
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