I sought you on windswept plains, on mountaintops, in extreme circumstances. I thought I would find you on the edge of the world.
Instead, you came to me in this small room, where I sit hidden. Dawn does not trouble me here, nor the rains.
You crept in while I sat dejected and broken.
Let me seek not the exhilaration of the mountain top, but your sweet whispering in my closet.
Come to me, Lord.