Quiet, fortifying Good and Holy Friday morning-early. Alone time, as precious as long sought silver, diligently mined and polished with care…its filigree shines and courses through veins of today’s rabble and sorrow, scrabble and horror and forward tumble.
Quiet, closing the noisy portals of anxious thoughts…seeking a small and splintered narrow passage…a shuttered window which beckons the soft corner of my spirit, away from nonsense, ego and vain rantings. This door opens with the most gentle touch…feather light and hidden…shhh, for the Son of God is crucified and we dare not listen to nor hear any more sounds from silly seasons…
690 Saint Paul 