JamesKerti.com
This beautiful poem is from Edwin Markham, a native Oregonian and the state Poet Laureate from 1923 through 1931.
the templar
halls of museums, for
example, or
the chambers of churches,
and admire
no more than the beauty
there, or
remember the graveness
of stone, or
whatever. You don’t
have to do any
better. You don’t have to
understand
the liturgy or know history
to feel holy
in a gallery or presbytery.
It is enough
to have come just so far.
You need
not be opened any more
than does
a door, standing ajar.
When it comes time to say farewell,
whether to a love,
a home,
a path,
or a life,
let your practice be always the same:
just as we do in those final moments of light
beneath the late-afternoon sun.
Sit quietly for a moment, allow your heart room
to be heard, keep your breath steady
and centered as you reflect on the blessings
that have made this time in your life
so meaningful and precious.
Appreciate its place
and acknowledge its passing,
but trust also in the promise of new beginnings.
