Sister Laurel Clare Lloyd-Jones lfsf (1st January 1989)

For I inhabit a Grove wherein is my God,

my house of cedar and pine

is not of this place

but one with it.

 

Our home, simple and small, but not too small,

is always accessible to those who seek solace.

Surrounded by kookaburras who laugh and look down

to share our joy.

 

Wombats nestle near the two rivers,

sacred to the ancients who roamed this holy place,

and rugged blue – grey mountains cloaked in eucalypts

tell the distance at evening’s light.

 

I am heart glad to be as poor as this

for such riches – yellow, gold our Autumn elms

and fiery poplar tongues shout God’s majesty

as the rushing, singing rivers

grow chilled as nature sleeps.

 

Young of all creatures come to our door

restoring our faith and love.

Our orphaned joey grown to fullness and health

returns at dawn to share our day.

 

And at evening the wild geese fly

the resting earth sighs and moves.

Strong breezes cry aloud

and our praises rise

to the shining jewels above.

 

The river’s trout jump as the Marsh fly seeks its prey

and the long summer days roll over us

sweetening the berry and the nut

as we go to our rest satisfied.

 

For music we have the wind through the elms,

the cry of the velvet gang-gang, the tinkling rain drops,

the rushing flood,

so how can I know envy of others?

 

I see the rhythm of my Soul, I know the closeness of my God

I share these gifts of wonder with all who enter here

as I live this paradise

and know it as my inheritance.