BOOK OF HOURS/ 10:00a.m.
This we know,
the earth does not belong to us,
we belong to the earth.
This we know,
All things are connected.
The leaves are curling open,
soft green drapes drawn.
I hear the wind breathe ‘into’ them,
the branches cackle.
Awe. To be touched again
by the new buds unfolding,
covering the nakedness by which the tree has been
adorned. Wait! Adorned in nakedness,
the exposed Soul of the tree, like this Soul,
stands beneath these towering pillars of
delicate bark. How is one adorned when no
longer covered? Perhaps, in this hour, standing
with nothing but an open self.
Perhaps, unbridled by cover, I hear, I hear
the chirping bird singing from the highest
peak of the tree. I hear the symphony of insects,
each species singing its own pitch…and a harmony.
Yes, a harmony, balanced as if on a string, and another
string, and another…as if the Universe a harp, and
each delicate strand drawn and plucked
pulsating into this Cosmos a song of Union.
Earth, Gaia, she holds us…her being a womb
keeping watch over her garden. In wonder,
she anoints and blesses the day, not only the
hour, but every second exhilarated by the Breath of Life.
Life transforming itself over and over—
Never the same, yet always lasting.
In this hour, I listen. I hear the
heartbeat of a world pulsing within
everything…yes, even in me.
Pray with me in this hour.
11:00 a.m. will arrive next Monday—
Promise you will stay—invite another!
No worries if you pass. I hold you in all the hours remaining.