Sacred Spaces

Sacred to me is the Sussex village of Mayfield. The Windmill Hill… early morning rabbits nibbling at the dew-bejewelled grass… the 14th Century Great Hall… wide stone arches… July sun slanting through the windows, vibrancy of memories…

Sacred, the Pyrenean summits revealing lakes of an incredible blue… pure, bright waterfalls cascading down, after our stony climb through rhododendrons…

Sacred, Bach’s majestic oratorios, the music heaving, swelling, rising and ebbing like waves over the deeps…

Sacred, the feel of a small child hugging my ribs as we share our silent, understanding love…

Sacred, the steady companionship of trusted friends, year upon year…

The sacred, irresistible urge to discover, create, progress, to live life fully…

A supremely Sacred space: the last moments accompanying someone nearing their end of life… What mystery!

Perhaps a Sacred space is all that can lead to an encounter with God? Oh! glory to you, Lord, great glory!

Sr. Katharine Holmstrom
Poem
Sacred Spaces