Like an echo,
the blessing returns double—
not merely repeating,
but coming back overflowing,
fuller than before.
A fragile hope
held gently in cupped hands—
the kind of hope
that, although it trembles,
refuses to let go.
Like a leaf
letting the river
decide its destination,
I surrender without fear,
trusting the Spirit’s guidance,
carried by the current.
Sanctuary—
a pause,
a breath,
a holy place
where stillness gathers
and His voice is heard.
Here the soul rests,
filled with His presence.
Here,
His voice reaches
the quiet heart.
Here,
His gentle touch
is felt.