In Between Times

Swallowed up

Not knowing where behind me ends

Or where the the space in front of me begins

Visibility zero

This is life in uncertain times,

The not seeing

Still, still

Divine presence is in the sound of my beating heart,

And the Breath that cycles in and out of my lungs

In a steady rhythm,

The mist on my face, 

The earthy scent of harvested hay,

And the succulent sweetness of a peach as its juices run down my chin.

Sacred presence is here in other senses.

The touch, the smell, the taste, the sounds

Wrap in and around me 

Like a prayer shawl
Providing comfort, solace, hope

Until the day when the fog lifts

And we will all see everything clearly.