It was like a church to me.
I entered it on soft foot,
Breath held like a cap in the hand.
It was quiet.
What God was there made himself felt,
Not listened to, in clean colours
That brought a moistening of the eye,
In movement of the wind over grass.
There were no prayers said. But stillness
Of the heart's passions -- that was praise
Enough; and the mind's cession
Of its kingdom. I walked on,
Simple and poor, while the air crumbled
And broke on me generously as bread.
--R.S. Thomas, "The Moor"
Gorgeous. "Breath held like a cap in the hand"... I love it.
A beautiful poem. Stillness, how little it is practiced in our time.
This may sound a bit off to some who do not have dogs, but it works for me. In the early evening when I arrive home, the very first thing I do is make dinner for our five Yorkies (Yorkshire Terriers). Neither the TV, nor the stereo is turned on; I stand in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, in complete silence as I watch them eat. No business, no politics, no religion enters my mind; I simply watch. As they finish, they come to me for a pat and a belly scratch. On one knee I give attention to each one. That half hour or so cleans the day.
"It was like a church"....I find myself finding church in so many different places besides a building with a cross on it.