Bow not to defeat,
but to King;
open mouth not to scream,
but to sing.
Bend only to pray,
not give in;
incline heart both without
Flexible, I lean with wind
and curve before its raging force;
Flexible, I shift when snowflakes
seek to send my path off course.
Flexible, I tilt my head
to follow path of arcing sun;
Flexible, I bow my heart
to Maker, when the day is done.
For more thoughts on this topic, visit Growing With God in my Garden
I whisper, so as not to interrupt,
but your eyes see Another, and my presence
melts into the recesses of the Cathedral;
my footsteps echo hollow on grass and stone.
Kneeling in reverence,
you rise above me to a secret place,
a cleft in the Rock;
and I am left behind, in this plane –
yearning, always yearning.
Even I can see
that in prostration, you achieve elevation;
you lift up your head
and bow your heart
and step over the threshhold