The 60-Second Sabbath

attention

  • The Rhythm of Rest

    God rested God's selfand it was good.     We are called to the same. God exhaledand was refreshed.     We are called to the same. God took delight,smiled and surveyed the fruit.     We are called to… Continue reading

  • The Edges of This World

    The edges of this worldare often slippery and unstable;I lose my balanceand fall within…to the voice of God,the sound of the thinnest silence. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading

  • Sacred Spring

    I sit among the lilacs blooming–lavendar, white, pink and blue.I inhale God. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading

  • Smoke

    We live our livesforging identities;thenin clouds of inevitably certain–yet oddly unexpected–smoke,watch all turn to ash. Our eyes widen in surprise. And God wonders,"Have we paid no attentionat all?" Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading

  • Deep Within

    Deep within this pile of moulding leaves,pungent with the smell of autumn's rot,lies a meaning mine alone to find.I grip my pen, my spade, and dig in hasteand race the dusk that settles too soon in the day,and fear the… Continue reading

  • Crystal Circle

    I come upon a crystal circle,a fragile wheel of healing,spun along the edge of early mornings cliffswhose steep and rocky slope drops down, downto the broad, silent sweep of the Arkansas. I step within this ring of glowing stonesholding breath… Continue reading

  • Photography

    I take photos. For those with clear eyes,the opportunities are endless–skyscrapers, cemeteries, snowy landscapes… What I really seek to captureare dreams. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.   Continue reading

  • Going Numb

    I am pressed to the bedby a curled catdreaming, whisker-twitching on my lap. Who am I to disturbsuch safety, such warmth? Perhaps he is in cahoots with the Beloved:I'm to pen one last poem,excavate one final, pithy observation,extend my silence through… Continue reading

  • The Cathedral

    In this foreign, colonial square,amid fountains and pigeons,a sudden rainherds us to sanctuaryin the silent narthexof the town's old cathedral. Instantlywe transform from tourists to penitents–hushed, awed, immortal. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading

  • This Garden

    This garden,hidden up the hillabove the oldest gravestones,has a gate but no fence. I enter through the gate,though it means extra stepsaround the overgrown perimeter. This gardenis lush with silver leaves–no flowers, no buds preparing to open,    no dried… Continue reading