I have a lot to tell you, but currently not a lot of time to tell it. And since Mary Oliver already did such a good job of saying what should be said, I'll let her speak for me today.
The following is an excerpt from her poem "Six Recognitions of the Lord" out of the Thirst collection.
Lord God, mercy is in your hands, pour
me a little. And tenderness too. My
need is great. Beauty walks so freely
and with such gentleness. Impatience puts a halter on my face and I run away over
the green fields wanting your voice, your tenderness, but having to do with only the sweet grasses of the fields against my body. When I first found you I was filled with light, now the darkness grows and it is filled with crooked things, bitter and weak,
each one bearing my name.
