Wednesday in Holy Week
I would flee to a far-off place
and make my lodging in the wilderness
Psalm 55:8
open
waiting
expanding into sacred time
which cannot be counted in minutes
hours or days
measured rather
by encounters
with faithful conversation
quiet confessions
the rhythm of worship
of preparation
I collect distractions
gather them up
then scatter them
set them aside
the final stretch of wilderness
a clearing
an emptying
making way
