Book of Hours/ 4:00 p.m.

BOOK OF HOURS/ 4:00p.m.

 Once we believe in ourselves, we can
risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous
delight, or any experience that reveals
the human spirit.

 ~~~E.E. Cummings

4:00p.m. Hour

 The harvest ready…
Autumn changes the colors of this hour—
My breath softer, more silent, and I know
You, YAH-WEH, as I inhale and exhale.
My heart now beats to your unspoken name.
My steps move in the cadence of the air being
taken in and letting-go.  This hour, dusk begins
settling in.  The air changes—a cool breeze
rustles the leaves…some hang-on, others let-go—
hoisted, drifting, soaring and finding a place
to rest.  These hours tucked between seasons.
What is my prayer?  All these minutes that have
ticked on by…were they prayer?  Yes, these
ripened hands of time, they move without some-one
pulling or pushing life to become.  Life unfolds
without ‘me’ and, yet, it asks of me to be a
participant in this dance.  Life takes me, has
taken me by the hand. I have waltzed, Sashayed,
Rock-n-rolled, I have moon-walked and square-danced.
Then, beneath a blanket of stars, I closed my eyes
circling around the moon…a celestial wonder.
I was lifted, so ripe was I, I fell. I fell into
a pile of Autumn’s color-filled leaves only to
rake them higher so I could dive back in and fall.
Full circle, coming full circle, but give me these
remaining hours.  Let these lasting seconds
bring me nearer to you, who is
already at my side.

Pray with me in this hour—
5:00 p.m. will arrive next Monday—
Promise you will stay…invite another!
No  worries if you pass.  I hold you in all the hours remaining.