There were many places I now know to have had for me the quality we call sacred. Those places were no more and no less than places where for some reason one longed to be, where one had certain feelings that varied from fearfulness to strange and undefined joy. The adult I now am has learned to speak and to write of something called "sacred space," but, as with so many sacred things, one possessed them as a child long before one could name them. Come to think of it, the same may be true of all elements of God's grace.
Silent in the face of beauty
Silent in the morning light
Silent on the way of duty
Silent in the awesome night.
Silent on the way to silence
Where the Word unspoken dwells
Silent on the way to silence
Where the dear Beloved dwells.