Sacred Space

A reminder to enjoy life and all that is sacred.

As we meet the places between heaven and earth,

And hear the sweet melodic cry of the saints.

Foretelling us of an after-life so simplistic so clear.

To be present in the here and now.

To feel each glimpse of love that crosses our path.

To close our eyes and take in the beauty of all that lies around us.

A sacred stone not sacrilege to the touch.

Rather warm to the heart, as it renders to the day of old saints, their cloister,

Their kept secrets. 

Sacrificing the pieces that once belonged to them, or perhaps never belonged to them,

But to the Master.

The man who lies in mystery from the beginning of time.  

The one who gives gifts, yet so many are afraid.

Pronouncing Novenas saying Hail Marys, rubbing rosaries….

To wherein lies the answers.

Humanity’s bold attempt to call on the here-after.

There must be a way.  Not so hidden, so latent, so restrained within.

And yet where is it?

 Where is the Jesus of the two loaves and five fishes?

Wrapped in stories and words, man’s interpretation, literal or not.

The child-like faith embracing tomorrow,

Robes of many colors and a flooded  planet, only to be rescued by a dove.

Where would I be?  Would I be Jonah…so terrifyingly afraid to listen to the message?

To prophesy in the name of God.

To refuse to go to other lands.. 

Would I be cast into the water?

Overthrown.  Cold. Wet.  Lying there like a fish.

Encompassed by the loving hand of Yahweh within a great mouth…

Yet today our land is crying out.

We are desperate for the little boy to share his lunch.

For the widow’s mite.

For the scarlet grace.

Water from a well.

As we lay dying, withered, dehydrated, a branch losing it’s moisture.

Broken. Twisted. Snapping. Incomplete.

O come and rescue me children.

Let me see your light. 

Let me see your beauty.

Let me believe in your words…..

Red Yellow Black and White

All are precious in His sight.