Holy Hesychia

Holy hesychia,

how untouchable you appear.

How do I find you? Where do you reside?

My soul searches for you, but you are often beyond detection.

The ever clanging cymbals of life diverts my focus. I lose any glimpse of you that I find.

I wade through the depths of my heart, waving my arms about trying to reach you.

And when I get that sweet glimpse of you, my heart rejoices. Because where I find you, hesychia, I find Christ.

In the stillness of you, sweet hesychia, I meet the Lover of my soul.

In your quiet garden, I commune intimately with my Lord.

He rushes to meet me. He, who has been waiting for me. He, who longs for my love.