I often seek a quiet place where weeping willows nod,
Where I can leave the world behind and seek the voice of God.
I dare not speak while I am there for this is holy ground,
And yet God hears my silent prayer and there’s no need for sound.
I feel the sun upon my face, the wind upon my hair,
And He who holds the stars in place renews my spirit there.
I hear the trickle of the stream, the buzzing of the bee,
And I’m awake throughout the dream that He reveals to me.
My senses let me know He’s there, unseen — yet face to face,
Bound by faith and love and prayer in my holy, quiet place.
~ Clay Harrison