Your gaze meets mine

Your gaze meets mine.

I return that gaze,

enveloping all that I see.

I see me reflected back.

All the wounds, the hurts,

and my failures.

 

Your gaze meets mine.

I return that gaze,

and I feel inside

a stirring

like the soft

summer breeze in a field of

goldenrod readying itself

for early fall blossoms.

 

Your gaze meets mine.

I return that gaze,

and I feel your touch

before you even touch me

softly caressing the folds of my face

gently holding the pain and suffering

in the cup of your hand.

Gently, ever so gently.

 

Your gaze meets mine.

I return that gaze,

and I know that I have entered into

a presence

that is the very

gaze of God.

Holy, sacred, divine.

God within.

 

Your gaze meets mine.

I return that gaze,

seeing divinity in the mystery

that shrouds

all that is and

all that is to become

as we grow into the knowledge of

the sacred union.

 

Divinity found in the gaze of God.

 

Alleluia!

Alleluia!

Alleluia!

 

My soul aches to read more of John O’Donohue. I eagerly await my time in the west of Ireland as a pilgrimage of my soul.  It is a soul longing and stirring to visit the land of Celtic Spirituality.  

 

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