Sacred Ground
All that we see, touch, and taste, all the sounds and fragrances that flow so sweetly around us begin in it, rising like mists in the morning. It knows our entire history: every foot that ever touched earth, every feather that ever danced in its air, every creature that ever lived in its waters.
It blazes in the molten center of planets and strews itself in gasses that flow between the sparkling stars. It holds the universes in the space between its thoughts, and all the dimensions and planes. It breathes its light out to the farthest edges of darkness and, reaching them, creates new worlds.
And yet, how intimate it is, tenderly enfolding every beating heart, caressing each one with its compassion, singing loving tones that the heart alone can hear.
I sense its whispering in the sky on this February morning, and see it writing its name in the snow. It surrounds and pervades me, this sacred ground of being, and I taste its Yes and inhale its endless joy.
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Susan, your photography is always amazing but I absolutely LOVE today’s wide format!
As for your writing, my little one and I had a similar conversation about Sacred Ground recently. We’re often the first ones to make tracks in our favorite stomping grounds early in the morning after a freshly fallen snow. So many connotations to derive – to be the first; the grace of a new beginning; a wiping clean of the old slate… we are blessed with so many privileges in life. Truly we walk on Sacred Ground.
All the best from snowy Toronto,
Russ
Well, just for that, I did a wide format again today.
I really appreciated your story–there’s nothing quite like making the first tracks in new fallen snow, is there! So many blessings, so many privileges indeed.