A poem of presence

Dried Flowers

Awe is an intuition for the dignity of all things,
a realization that things are not only what they are
but also stand, however remotely, for something supreme.

Awe is a sense for the transcendence,
for the reference everywhere to mystery beyond all things.
It enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine …
to sense the ultimate in the common and simple;
to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.
Abraham Joshua Heschel

Coffee’s on,
subtle murmurs and gurgles from the machine,
familiar friend.

Nearby, the sound of the clock rings morning:
Wake up, this is your life.
Notice details: yellow table, glint of sunlight, the muted sound of traffic.
Heed to impatience, to comfort, to the pressure of wrist on wrist.

The whole world feels reduced to this moment,
the conversation between the wind at the window
and the hum of the refrigerator.

Steam rises slowly from the mug;
nothing and everything is happening at once.

The rush of the passing ushers in the stillness of the sacred,
the quiet
that reaches into the holiest temple of our hearts
and hushes us.


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Filed under Poetry, Spirituality

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