The rush of the city, the honking of taxicabs
People hurrying by, pushing through
And the distinctive sounds ring in my ear
And the wafting smells of the city rise
It is a dichotomy of sorts
This girl who grew up on the farm
Who by all accounts is quiet and introspective
And longs for the slow, sunshine filled days
I think of all the ways my Spirit has taught me
That my soul needs rest and to find solace
Because it is there--at the throne of grace
That I can listen, and hear and be.
Yet, I laugh at the surprise of knowing
Even in the city with all its busyness
I find the solace, the peace, the serenity
I am looking out on a new day
With the sparklin sun rising up over
The Brooklyn Bridge--an exquisite sight.
And even in the chaos that is around
I found a chapel and I retreat there sometimes
To their noontime vespers to settle and quiet
And meet the One who created me and sustains me
And holds me, even when the world is clamoring
The chapel houses a beautiful labyrinth
And I find myself almost running there
So I get to the peace, commune with the Holy
For that is where I find the source of my life
And now I find that it isn't about running away
Or finding the silence of the chapel so much
But quieting my soul, and practicing Sabbath
Learning to expereince Resurrection.
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