I am a wanderer. I would say that I am a seeker, but sometimes I have no idea what I might be seeking, so I will stick with wanderer. This blog is more a public journal than anything. I don't claim to have life figured out. I simply stumble from mystery to mystery, and share my reflections along the way. Sometimes I feel burdened, and trudge. Sometimes? Well sometimes grace breaks through, and its time to dance.
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Deep Things
There are no words for the deepest things. Words become
feeble when mystery visits and prayer moves into silence. In post-modern
culture the ceaseless din of chatter has killed our acquaintance with silence.
Consequently, we are stressed and anxious. Silence is a fascinating presence.
Silence is shy; it is patient and never draws attention to itself. Without the
presence of silence, no word could ever be said or heard. Our thoughts
constantly call up new words. We become so taken with words that we barely
notice the silence, but the silence is always there. The best words are born in
the fecund silence that minds the mystery.
John
O'Donohue
_____________________________________________________
in that moment
between darkness and dawn
when the sun merely hints at its presence
there is a profundity
one is assailed by the silence
and finds relief in the owls
who suddenly decide
to sing a love song
in that moment you can hear yourself breathe
hear the crunch of your feet on the earth
feel your heart beat
feel your feelings
and experience the roar of your brain
as it fills the silence with people
ideas,
and hear the roar subside,as you
take a deep breath
and feel the coolness of the fall
flow through you
and let everything go
except that one sliver of light
that one clarion call
that one feeling
of love
and let the face of your beloved
arise
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