My worn-out soul,
    come away, rest awhile.

Sit in silence.
    Receive something of beauty,

something holy.
    Look into God's eyes.

Reach an arm around your heart
    and rest it there

in tenderness.
    Compassion comes more easily

for others;
    now it's your turn.

My worn-out soul,
    you sit in the presence of God,

who spreads her wings above you,
    mother-hen sheltering.

Peace.
    Be at peace.

My worn-out soul,
    be at peace.

Breathe into peace
    beyond understanding.

Text and image © 2022 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.
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