Barefoot In The Sacred

in the sacred

Step outside the garden door,

with bare feet on cold concrete,

and after the realisation that it’s not so bad,
you can bear it,
move on to the dew wet morning grass,
to the uncut patch,
where the secret life within grounds you
to the heart of your heart,
to the world heart,
to the one sacred whole where you know yourself in everything,
where everything has it’s peace,
and even inanimate objects
find their rest in the sacred.

19 Comments

    1. Hi Tom,
      how true your words are, our elusive reality, gone to ground in the noise of the chattering monkeys in our mind, but then to find it in the peaceful mindfulness of awareness.

      Like

    1. Thank you Geo.
      The language of our senses, so elusive, words never really justify, but I think our heart translates and sends forth to other hearts, to the one heart.

      Like

  1. Ah, yes–the grace and mystery of “the uncut patch.” Thank you for this lovely and grounding poem, Teri. “Step….:” I love how you direct us immediately to our feet and our senses, wisely reminding us that they are rivers to our hearts, to the one heart. My dancing feet are dancing with joy upon reading this :). Thank you for your gift. xo

    Liked by 1 person

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