My Own Sacred Grove

A boy, long ago, had a question;
And he didn’t know where to turn.
He didn’t know who to trust,
Till in the scriptures he learned he must
Turn to God, who would point the way.

So he went into the forest with his question,
And knelt down in a private little grove.
He offered up the desires of his heart,
And that was the very start
Of the flood of light that came that day.

I have my own sacred grove
Where I can turn, where I can go,
And pour out my heart to
Someone who knows my name.

And He can fill my mind with light,
And He can teach and lead me right,
And answer my questions, and point me on my way
In my own sacred grove.

As that boy, long ago, offered up his question,
A dark power seized him, and bound his very tongue.
But he exerted all his power
To call on God in that dark hour;
Then, the light came – the Father and the Son!

Exactly above his head, a light descended;
Exactly the course he should take was made known.
Exactly the words were spoken
By which the darkness might be broken
For this boy kneeling down in the woods alone.

May I be found there, every day –
In my own…
Sacred grove.