THE RESTING PLACE

Often as I go about
the tasks of everyday,
I hear from somewhere deep inside
a call to stop and pray.

From a little spark it quickly builds
a consuming raging fire,
to go and meet my true love
tell Him of my desire.

I cloak myself in stillness
blot out distractions of the earth,
gaze into His loving eyes
experience re-birth.

From a wilted, dying flower
new sap begins to flow,
no longer bent and gasping
taking on a fresh new glow.

You feed me, oh my Jesus
with all the world can’t give,
You restore me with faith, hope and love
teach me what it takes to live.

The chrysalis begins to crack
far, the problems of the world,
I emerge a bright new creature
new spirit wings unfurl.

Refreshed, invigorated I return
from this peaceful resting place,
my countenance reflecting
the joy and love upon His face.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
Feb. 7, 1996