Towards her I send flowing peace like a river.
And like a stream in spate.
I pray I may be less of a taker, more of a giver.
And resigned cheerfully to my fate.

I am sitting here looking across twenty miles .
Nearby meadow and trees , distant blue.
Ready to walk over nearby styles.
Slowly taking in the  verdant view.

I do not feel like the 72 labourers.
Sent out to pray , travel light and preach.
But in peace pass the  shortening years.
A greater perspective given to each.

We do not yet know our way .
Or how it best to lay.

……..

The harvest is rich
We baulk being labourers .
We are the many

…….

See Isaiah 66: 10-14