… The courage of a river to continue belief
In the slow fall of ground,
Always falling farther
Toward the unseen ocean.
The river does what words would love,
Keeping its appearance
By insisting on disappearance;
It’s only life surrendered
To the event of pilgrimage,
Carrying the origin to the end,
Seldom pushing or straining,
Keeping itself to itself
Everywhere all along its flow,
An utter rhythm, never awkward,
It continues to swirl
Through all unlikeness,
With elegance:
A ceaseless traverse of presence
Soothing on each side
The stilled fields,
Sounding out its journey
Raising up a buried music
Where the silence of time
Becomes almost audible.
And the rain in the night, driven
by the loneliness of wind
And drop its weight of longing
Into the earth, and anchor
Blessed be water,
Our first Mother. – In Praise Of Water – John O’Donohue
PiYo This Week: Monday & Thursday At 8:00 am
Be Well,
William