On a summer morning
I sat down
on a hillside
to think about God –
a worthy pastime.
Near me, I saw
a single cricket;
it was moving the grains of the hillside
this way and that way.
How great was its energy,
how humble its effort.
Let us hope
it will always be like this,
each of us going on
in our inexplicable ways
building the universe. ~Mary Oliver “Song of the Builders”
I should watch more than build,
think more about God and how He is building me
than try to change His universe.
Like the sunrise this morning
with its line of demarcation
between what is lit and what is not yet,
I’m a work in progress,
waiting to be fully in the Son.
The gaps are the thing. The gaps are the spirit’s one home, the altitudes and latitudes so dazzlingly spare and clean that the spirit can discover itself like a once-blind man unbound. The gaps are the clefts in the rock where you cower to see the back parts of God; they are fissures between mountains and cells the wind lances through, the icy narrowing fiords splitting the cliffs of mystery. Go up into the gaps. If you can find them; they shift and vanish too. Stalk the gaps. Squeak into a gap in the soil, turn, and unlock —more than a maple— a universe. ~Annie Dillard from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
“Many solemn nights Blond moon, we stand and marvel… Sleeping our noons away” ― Teitoku (Japanese Haiku)
May I never lose my wonder at the universe suspended above my head, whether it is vast galaxies spreading like a canopy, a golden blond moon or photos beamed back from the surface of Mars from the rover Curiosity.
May I marvel at what is beyond my capacity to understand and my capability to see with my own eyes.
May I never snooze oblivious, unaware of the privilege that is being here, if only a little while.