Holy Wonder

Holy Wonder

If you would 

be holy;

begin 

with wonder.

Go to 

the edge

places,

where sky 

and sea 

meet,

kiss,

and yield 

to 

each other 

their

horizon's touch

in shades 

of blue

and green

and grey;

gifting you 

with grace 

to be lost in

awe;

loose at last 

from

all your

wandering 

thoughts.

If you would 

be holy;

begin 

with wonder.

Go to 

the wild 

places;

the untamed 

lands, 

where eden's 

song

echoes still 

between the rocks, 

behind the trees, 

beneath the waves,

in the sighing 

of 

the breeze;

there, hear again 

the song of 

longing 

in your own 

heart,

your part 

in 

creation's chorus,

as loud as 

thunder,

as soft as snow 

falling 

on snow.

If you would 

be holy;

begin 

with wonder.

Go to 

the slow 

places 

where 

darkness 

becomes 

light 

as day 

emerges 

from

dawn, 

and dusk 

from 

day. 

Sit with 

the 

gentle 

shifting 

of the 

light, 

see the 

stability 

of its 

circadian 

dance. 

Watch 

moonrises 

and 

sunsets,

set your 

soul 

aflame again 

with 

star fire,

entering deeply 

into the

rainbowed 

covenant

of dawn.

If you would 

be holy;

begin 

with wonder.

Go to 

the ancient 

places,

and there, 

rest 

in the 

inner knowing

of your 

youth;

however 

old 

you call 

yourself,

tree 

and stone 

and sky

long lived 

before you

and

will live long 

after 

you leave.

If you would 

be holy;

begin 

with wonder.

Go to 

the inner 

places

of your own

being;

bow down

before the 

flame of 

presence

dwelling 

divinely

in your 

soul.

Come 

to the 

knowing

of 

your true name

within 

the Name;

with each 

breath

be breathed 

into the 

fullness 

of 

being

in awe, 

in delight,

in the 

graced 

gratitude

of love.

If you would 

be holy,

always 

begin 

with 

wonder.