The Doors of Glory:
There are
moments
when
the world
opens up
and is
revealed
as a door
to glory;
when,
between
the twined trees,
or upon
the stacked stones,
or along
the shingled shore,
or within
the heavy houses,
in a landscape
long known,
but fading
daily
into familiarity,
the
slanting sun
sudden touches,
in its rising
or
in its setting,
details, perhaps
unnoticed
until then.
Gilding them
gold, its beams,
bell like,
sound
a soul call
to slow,
to stop,
to stare,
to attend
upon the
filigreed
moment
when the
divine depth
welcomes
us
home again
to the
holy beauty
of that
which is.
There we,
struck still,
and wounded
anew
by wonder's weal,
find our
inner eye
opened,
and soul-see
all afire
with
glory,
now making of
our
everywhere
a door,
a gate,
a garden,
where
our senses,
barefooted
and blessed
anew,
behold
the Light
by which
all
that is
abides.
Pic of sunset on one of the fairy hills
🙏🏻 An embodied celebration of the mutual, intimate and eternal sacredness of things 💜
ReplyDelete🙏🏻 An embodied celebration of the mutual, intimate and eternal sacredness of things 💜
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