Sit Silently in Beautiful Places

Sit silently in beautiful places.
Look up at vaulted ceilings
or the distant mountains
or your new favorite painting on the wall.
Then let whatever it is that’s been leaking through your skin,
leaking through your bus stop moments
when you forget to smile the real way,
leaking through your morning routine
from the moment you open your eyes,
let it seep into the ground.
Let yourself be cradled in beautiful places.
Breathe and wonder
if the stones are whispering their glory,
or if it’s the light reflecting,
or the way the candles are melting.
Listen silently in beautiful places
to the song sung by the wind
until you learn the harmonies
that replay again and again in your soul.
You can weep at majesty or joy
or when heartache proves
heavier than you remembered,
or for grief at what was alive becoming dust.
Yes. Weep for those things,
but sit silently in beautiful places,
because the stones really whisper healing
with their gilded columns,
and the wind is an embrace of love,
and the light knows how to warm you,
kissing lightly your forehead
with a promise to always return,
day after day after day.
But the only way to know any of the stone’s secrets
or the wind’s embrace
or the light’s promise
is to sit silently sometimes in beautiful places.

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