Mystery hushes us. It blasts away incessant mind-chatter. It chokes words into silence.
We stand at the edge of the canyon; or by the side of the sea; or at the foot of a mountain. Quiet. Awe.
Vows exchanged by glistening eyes, clammy hands and trembling voices.
Hearing, It's cancer.
The birth of a healthy new child.
Holding-onto a dear friend as they breath their last.
And now we queue-up to a new year. We hear a whisper pleading with us: Take off your shoes, This is holy ground.
Will we remove them? Will we listen? Do we believe?