Still a Way To Pray

It is for me to watch... to stand in where the shadows were, absorb the light and fill my heart with those vignettes of knowing, skittering before my inner eyes like diamond dust. Here is my chance to age with wisdom not my own but wander here between the stones, their relative array, perhaps a sage's gift in chiaroscuro stone, to stone, to stone. The night is for the cherishing, the silent requiem, the first and last 'Shalom' to fade without regret. This is where the shadows were... Shalom to feast upon and to forget but for the watchers, emulators of the Holy Ones, the breathless worshipers at Stonehenge echoing the chant of God across ten thousand years and you may hear the whisper of it now, within...death is a dream you saw at Easter Island, and upon a mountain in Peru. Watch along the deathless hours before the sun appears. ~