I see your silhouette
Outlined in the stillness of a winter afternoon window
The grey sunlight, a filter of contemplative conversation
The quiet, a prayer shawl wrapped around your broad shoulders
I am drawn to this same space
Of whispered wants and hopeful haunts
I wonder what wish leaves your lips
And almost miss the sigh of your Amen.
Your blacked out form leaves
And I am left listening to the shadow of your footsteps in the hall
Reminding me that in this sacred space
God sees what I cannot.
One of the “perks” of working in a church is that I can pop in whenever the mood hits. Our church is usually kept dark with only the light from the candles and windows illuminating the sacred space. Sometimes, when I go in for a visit, I notice that someone is already there. Most times, I would leave to allow them some privacy. Other times, I stay and share the space with them. This past week, I even saw our new pastor praying in the quiet of our church as I passed through.
Sadje’s What do you see #169 meshed beautifully with this poem. The picture reminded me if the “all-seeing eye” or “eye of providence,” in reference to how God sees all. There are several scripture verses that talk about God seeing in ways that humans cannot (1 Samuel 16:7) and God watching over everyone (Proverbs 15:3, Psalm 33:18, 2 Chronicles 16:9). Inevitably, this also reminds me of the Police song, “Every Breath You Take.”
Whether you believe in God, Allah, YHWH, Buddha, Gaia or whoever you call your higher power, being “seen” (and not in the stalker sense) seems to be an innate need that we all have. Isn’t that why we blog and post and tweet and snap and TikTok? What matters more though – who sees us or what they see?
©️ iido 2023