the White Stone - Page 82

the White Stone
page 82
hat is where the stone lies. Between the land and the sea.
To call it a metaphor, some kind of representation of who we are is a bit
limiting really. Dumb even. What we have here is something that has power and
expressive magic. We are on Holy ground. Sacred ground. As it is above, so it is
below. To write these words of ecstasy. We see the Sun. We see the Moon. That
the heavenly bodies move in majesty across the vastness of the sky (firmament).
Be it that the air is warm and charged with the vapour of potentiality. That the
sound of the falling sea is so alive that it whispers the Name of all Creation. In
this small vision there is this indestructible spark of life, may it be our life, this
stone, held in the hand of the Almighty. Before us is He, the Son of God, our
Lord Jesus. All around us is shimmering presence. The Holy Spirit. Be with me
here and now in this moment. Imagine the witness of beings. Imagine the birds
that do great honour. Imagine too the beasts of the field. The small and
generous animals that have soft humility.
The salt, the sand, the great ripeness, the vast ocean of mystery. And our
emotion? That we should feel love and wonder in the presence of
Him to whom all glory be given. In our imagination we make it like this.


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