Watch, listen, enter In the middle of the dance of the three is a light burning. It is still, it is quiet. I can hear the rhythmic breathing of those exhaling the tiredness of the day's conversations. Our thoughts, words from the day echo in our minds. Slowly giving them over to sacred stillness. I can hear the sounds of a busied world beyond the protective walls and ceiling. |
It is still.
The rhythmic exhalations collecting a sacred rebuilding in the inhalations.
I can hear the sound of a motorbike. I like to ride a bike. It is fun. I wonder who rides this bike I can hear. I pray for their safety..
It is still.
Outside the pattern changes. Rain begins to wash in. Soil, plants, rooves, temper the sound of its arriving. Louder, heavier, heavier, louder. Water falling, drains into earth's crevices and spaces.
Watch, listen, enter
The little light shines.
Blessing all in its stillness