Categories: uncategorized
Date: 03 August 2005 10:49:43
Listening to the Silence
a pause
a gap in the human go where the Divine squeezes through
I see a tree, a liquid amber tree with dainty painted leaves, yellow and green. One branch reaches past in red and brown.
I hear magpie song and wagtail flutter, blue wren twitter and magpie flight, whooh, whooh.
I crouch and touch jagged rock, cold and sharp, round pebble round, orange stone so smooth and flat I'm sure other people have rubbed their finger back and forth over it as I am doing.
I smell fresh air, cold, sharp
I taste the same old taste, warm mouth, dry, needing tea.
I see only this small patch, all stones, yet all different, rough, smooth, colours and sizes. And small seeds with wings, bark, fallen amber leaves.
Why am I amoungst all these people who are nothing like me. Maybe I should go off and join a hip, young, small faith community, with other people who want to sit on the floor, people who want to be involved.
From down here I see only this small square in front of me, until I turn my head and see stones as far as I can see. Each little stone lying in it's small world, so removed from here. And yet from here, I can see all the worlds are the same. Different, but the same.
This is my small patch and I may as well get to know the poeple in it and the purpose they have - to allow them to shape me and each other as only they can in this community.
I think God is in that - but no voices and squishy feelings... yet.