Saturday, August 3, 2019

I see the objects with which you fill the world. The fellow friends you send my way, the crowds who mill. The landscape and skies.

Where, Lord, is the way to you? I do not see your hand behind it all, I do not see how few are the steps from me to you.

Daily I forget. Daily you gently bring me back to your pathways.

Let me move toward you today, though the way to you remains unseen.

(Letter #1,666)