It’s a cold morning on the hill. the grey sky above the bare trees. I light a candle for the world and smell the burning wax. Ann is pouring coffee in the other room and the sound of the metal spoon on the cup clicking enamel does for the morning bell to prayer.
" the sound of the metal spoon on the cup clicking enamel does for the morning bell to prayer." I can hear the metal on metal transforming the silence into a carrier pigeon of love.
ReplyDeleteFor me it is the nudge from an unknown hand in the darkness of night that beckons me to an hour of praise and thanksgiving.
pray without ceasing
ReplyDelete