The courage to attend

I built myself a tree within the forest,
a quiet place to meditate and hide,
and over time I made some modifications --
thinned the walls and covered them with ivy,
added a curved and sliding glass door --
until one day there came an invitation
to open that door, to step outside and greet
the presence I'd been waiting for within.

But when I left the safety
of my self-constructed habitat;
saw all those other trees,
each with its own engraved invitation,
and You there, waiting, golden arms outstretched,
I panicked; left the forest altogether
and spent the next ten years running away.


So here I am again, a decade later.
I'm standing at the edge and looking in,
knowing now the value of that invitation,
wondering if I might ever find it again
and if at last I might now have the courage
to attend.