I hear my name whispered
in the new day’s softness.
I hesitate in the shadows.
Perhaps it was birdsong.
I hear it carried on the wind
much clearer now.
Still, I hide.

I am old and tired.

I have a longing in my heart
a hunger in my mind,
but I have tried and failed
so many times before.
I glimpse Abram and Sara
ahead in the mists  
beckoning.

I cling to where I am. 

Finally, I see a face
with eyes that see
into the darkness of my soul
and a smile so warm
it melts my frozen heart.
His hand reaches out,
as Jesus calls my name.

Here I am, Lord.