Went to a community meeting this a.m.
all different type of humans
different sizes
different ages
different dress style
different colours of skin
different facial expressions
different body postures
different interior lives but I don't know much about all that.
Communities are meeting like this all over the world.
All different in style, agenda, leadership and content.
I guess all entering this next week
differently than any other week this year.
Forty singers in ours - and we all join in sometimes.
I was surprised by my emotion in there.
Didn't expect it.
But always in this season -
I am transported to new places.
We are led in our singing
I joined in .......
'...... sorrow and love flow mingled down ...........'
how can I fail to be moved?
When you lose a loved one
When you remember the loss of someone who you fell in love with
When you remember their impact on your life
When I reflect on what he did to help me out ...........
How can I fail to be moved?
I am only a few yards from the market place.
I am only a few yards from cigarette butt littered pavements
I am only a few yards from vomit on the pavements
I am only a few yards from shops crawling into life
I am only a few yards from sunshine
But where I am is not in this standout building in a market town
The one with lots of unused seats
The one with a big point on the top of the tower
I am inside a body recognised as Pip Wilson by some.
I am inside me, and my inside me - is kneeling and touching new depths of spirituality.
'..... did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown?'
It is all in the Palm of my hand ................... and soul.
