The One My Soul Loves
by P.H. Wise

There are two things that I do not understand
There are three things that are too wonderful for me
The soaring eagle, the restless ocean
And the way of the Lord with His people

The only noise was the wind
Whispering through the redwoods
Ancient giants all around
A living silence full of sound
Beams of light and shifting shadows
Moving with the wind
And here He called to me,
called me by name
But I, caught up in what I saw
Heeded Him not at all

The ocean surged along the shore
Taking, giving with one breath
And in that water's cold embrace
Lies all I know of death.
He whispered to me in that place
Of raging surf and sand
Yet I heard only the pounding waves
. . .
I could not, would not hear a whisper

The falls flowed gently from above
Cascading down the rocks
The ferns and sorrel on the ground
And redwoods growing all around
That living silence full of sound
Surrounded me again
And in that waterfall,
He sang to me
But I heard not His serenade
Nor did I perceive how my pretense of deafness grieved Him

And then my world shattered
The floor fell out beneath me
And I fell into a desert
No water, no silence, no life
And there I called His name
And there He spoke to me
"Why has this come to be?" said I,
"Be still my child," came His reply
"Be still and hearken to me
for I have much to tell you."

So I became still, and waited
Waited for the one my soul loves.

So I wait.