It was a soft drive through the snow
the scent of adventure wafting through coffee steam
winding up Taconic's fair curves
pausing for rest just a little
leaving the highway
to an old shaker village
Sufi souls there now
my room's quiet corner
small bed and table, to myself this time
I have a teapot and some food
I have miles of quiet and peace
thinking and relaxing my brain
from thinking
Praying and
allowing for the silences to fill with more silence
the quietude of God speaking
soft tones, loving peace
the gift of the retreat in the snow