Remarkable, how much space there is
In between the noises and sounds of this world.
Such sweetness and promise
Sing the little high pitches of the morning birds
That shake the leaves awake
To open again to the outpouring
Of the sun’s light falling
Relentless is the Silence
Graceful its quiet calling
Upon Apocalyptic doomsday countdowns of
Those who say everything’s getting worse, I say:
Heaven! It doesn’t make sense when I feel better,
Watching my own bloom blossom open into Life.
Hear the evening birds as dark grows
And new day begins, and always
The ocean, just over the dune,
Among all the other music
The silence surrounding me sounds.
It’s the Tiyoweh, the sacred silence
That is to be found when we give ourselves
The moment,
A gift within a gift within a gift:
To sit. To remember.
That is the human life that can hold
All these things
And lift a pen to write the prayer
That records and gives words to
The heart that sings.
To save the world is to be one’s self
Wholly, highly, honestly, quietly.
Lovingly, gently, patiently, respectfully.
Grateful, to know the door is being held open
By the giants that have come before
So that we may walk the steps
Upon each our path
And life on the page
Of the one heart song
To keep each other from falling off the edge.
*according to the old Celtic way, the new day begins when the sun goes down.
*Tiyoweh is a native American word for Stillness, or The Great Sacred Silence.
