elm cottage mornings

visited tarrawarra abbey once more and had a fantastic reunion with the chua bros (joseph & samuel) and old pals like Pat Burton, not forgetting the monastic fraternity who extended a warm welcome to us. there was plenty of catching up to do- city news, uni days, family fare, local stuff and mealtimes to share. the dawn was cast in winter light- a warm spray of sunrays and scented dew where old oaks stood in timeless respect for the place where many prayers have been said...elm cottage is used as a hermitage for families or individuals who wish to spend time in solitude. located about 5 mins from the main monastery, it looked like a wooden hut extracted and rebuild from Huckleberry Fin's homestead, supplied by rain and river water, backed by a heater or two to ensure healthy sustenance. there is a side chapel and certain corners looked as if they were freshly torn from a page of poems composed by time and landscape...i picked out near- samples and ran my fingers along the seasoned timber of a house, lodged in prayer and drenched daily in silence...a disused barrow from Merton's journals, brown sprigs in Basho's haiku, distant ponds in Wordsworth's Preludes and the singing trees from Rilke's canticles... the magpies flew overhead and landed on the grass, sturdy creatures who wore the same habits as the monks, sharing common timbres in chant and the cadence of flight. the days passed into the evenings and the hermitage became a temporary home and solace for friends.

resting place and sabbath mornings,
respite from the city...and to urban folks who seek to find rest-










O God of freedom, i come to you weary with all i have experienced. I cannot resolve the past, only accept it. Give me insight to see the good in the grief i go through. Give me courage to dare to dream again and be with me in my dreaming. We place our whole lives in your hands. Guide us. Create us. Shape us. Call us to life and we will live again.

amen

-adapted from helen jaeger's paths through grief