Lux In Tenebris Lucet: Saturday, December 10
Day 13 of our 28-day Advent journey of mini-dispatches to give you pause and light.
"In the shadows of tall buildings
Of fallen angels on the ceilings
Oily feathers in bronze and concrete
Faded colors, pieces left incomplete
The line moves slowly past the electric fence
Across the borders between continents
In the cathedrals of New York and Rome
There is a feeling that you should just go home
And spend a lifetime finding out just where that is
In the shadows of tall buildings
The architecture is slowly peeling
Marble statues and glass dividers
Someone is watching all of the outsiders
The line moves slowly through the numbered gate
Past the mosaic of the head of state
In the shadows of tall buildings
Of open arches endlessly kneeling
Sonic landscapes echoing vistas
Someone is listening from a safe distance
The line moves slowly into a fading light
A final moment in the dead of night..."
—Jump Little Children, “Cathedrals”
"'Lean into the trees," she answered. "They hold so much wisdom.'
"Her words were like an invitation, a blessing. Through the invisible network that connects us, her love nurtures me.
"Climbing a steep hiking trail the nxt day, I silently repeated [her] advice: *lean into the trees.* It keeps me present, right here and right now. Every so often, walking past one of the trees, I stop and press the palm of my hand on its trunk. The thick bark is rough and cool, and somehow, the tree seems to express a kind of consciousness. An intelligence. Do I discern a response to my touch, somehow, from deep inside the tree? There is a wisdom about these trees. I wonder what they are telling me."
—Jennifer Grant from Dimming the Day: Evening Meditations for Quiet Wonder