Book Of Hours
Time—a gift given to each of us at the moment
of birth to walk along the path our creator
has invited us to and to use each moment
to honor our humanity and to stay faithful
to the journey.
The Book of Hours is one woman’s journey
over the course of a lifetime sketched out
in a twenty-four-hour period as she embraces life
and celebrates the God within her.
The meditations are not brick and mortar reflections of life,
but rather as gentle raindrops falling to earth.
Through glorious pictures and deeply
penetrating stories, the path embraced is
splashed in splendor and exudes a sense of
peace, hope, and love.
You, the reader, are invited to walk the
journey. Standing quietly at the outset, you
are being nudged gently to accept the invitation.
Gaze upon a solitary path
and, as the hushed moments unfold into
hours, take the time to envision a juncture
where the solitary path diverges—where
you are invited to pursue your personal
journey—sometimes lonely, but an honest
journey through your life’s experiences. Each
will silently and gently allow you to see
yourself in the MIRROR as life unfolds before
you and challenges you to look deeply within
and listen to the beat of your heart.
Time~~~ a gift given.
Listen…the Hours speak.
Be not afraid—
The Book of Hours is written for you—for me.
Let each penned word touch your heart.
Immerse yourself in the story’s message.
Follow Your Heart.
BOOK OF HOURS/ Mid-Night
“I live my life in widening circles
that reach out across the world.
I may not complete this last one
but I give myself to it.
I circle around God, around the primordial tower.
I’ve been circling for thousands of years
and still I do not know: am I a falcon
a storm, or a great song?”
~~~Rainer Maria Rilke
The mid-night hour holds the moon’s fullness.
The only shadows, the deep sea of night’s
darkness, pulling themselves back. The light revolves
around a world given permission to slumber.
Resting, yet awake, my pupils, black as licorice. They swirl
around meeting the circular lemon drop outside my windowpane.
We gaze, long, effortlessly, hoping to discover what? What unknown
visitor wishes to share in this moment? A third presence
fills what only now I recognize as some distinct void.
Hovering, it holds the light, and the dilation of my pupils
grows wider and wider reaching for the glowing ember
beholden to the night. I hear my breath, but is it my breath
that speaks? I hear the sound of a name that need not
be spoken. It can be heard on the inhale… ‘YAH,’ and as I
exhale, ‘WEH’ again, ‘YAH’-‘WEH.’ A wind seems to
push the moon, and that same breeze unsettles me to follow.
I rise, drape my blanket around my shoulders. I shiver, not
because I am cold, but what it is calling. This visitor, how
many times we have met. You continuously expand my curiosity.
I’m never at a loss to seek you and I pray I never truly
find you. If I did, I believe I would have to begin as if
a first time.
Pray with me in this hour…
1:00a.m. will arrive next Monday—
Promise you will stay…invite another! No worry if you pass.
I hold you in all the hours remaining.