Sometimes I read a poem or blessing or prayer
Knowing intuitively something is there beyond my grasp, beyond my rational comprehension
My mind cannot organize or categorize this mystery, this truth
While surprisingly, these words beyond me, comfort
It’s as if, just for a moment, I touch mystery
It’s a reminder of the more real, solid, and substantial world of the spirit which exists beyond us
And through this, or because of this, I am strengthened
Through brushing the mystery beyond my comprehension, I come alive.
Thanks be to God.
mark tidsworth 