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Gallery
| Ruth Buckinger, Winnipeg |  |
Looking high into winter trees
I see the distant nests cradled in arms of branches.
Nests:
round, full of warmth, softeness in the welcoming centre,
a circle of earth/s tiny goodness, flown far from the corners,
pieced together, and hollowed into a home.
Nests:
awaiting the treasure of life,
simple delicate dwelling places
from which song will eventually echo
and freedom of wings give flight.
Prepare the nest of the heart:
patch up the broken parts,
place more softness in the centre.
Sit and warm the home with prayer-
Give Love a dwelling place.
(Adapted from Advent by Joyce Rupp)
Written on the scroll in the nest.
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