I am not in the mood to write. I know, it’s the New Year and I should be writing stuff. But unfortunately, my mind’s not working. So, I decided to share with you one passage which I find to be very uplifting, inspiring yet mystical. I actually came upon this passage when I occupied an office years ago. The previous occupant must have left this.
Mystical Heart (Edwina Gately)
Whatever happens to me in my life,
I must believe that somewhere in the mess or madness of it all, there is a sacred potential –
a possibility for wondrous redemption in the embracing of all that is.
For the unfolding of my journey,
in all its soaring delight and crushing pain,
I may be sure that God is there – always ahead, behind, below and above,
encompassing all that befalls me in a circle of deep compassion.
And there, above the darkness that wraps me round, the bright wings of the dove hover and beat in gentle healing love an invitation to new rising.
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
There are times that I would read poetry. And this is one of those times. This one of my favorites, written by e.e. cummings.