Prayer Closet

It may be just a corner where the crowd
Has turned, and one's own thoughts be entertained,
Or in the lush, green forest, tall and proud,
Whose shade shelters words to God unfeigned.

It may be in the impressive music hall,
Where strains of great composers fill the air;
In a single passage, caught out of it all,
A heart is touched; the voice of God is there.

It may be on the playground, filled with shouts,
As children pour out energy galore.
An idea, with power to bloom, there sprouts,
A ready spirit tucks it in its store.

It may be faltering words that we must say,
To clarify a friendship we hold dear.
When lifted up, in love, to face the day,
We find in the encounter, God is near.

In corner, quiet room, or church's service shared,
Reaching for His presence, we may find,
The heart seizes on the gist of message aired;
His little chapel sets up quarters in our mind.

It may be, because our bent, our Maker knows,
Our prayer closet, where He can our lives enrich,
That on a given word or action our grasps close,
And, in places so diverse, we find our niche.