Grandfather cultivated gratitude at every step. On Fridays, after noon prayers, he retired to his room for a half hour ritual. Eyes closed, hands on heart, grandfather melted into a trance. Softly, at times in silence, he intoned continuous words of heart-felt thanks to God interspersed with recitations from the Holy Book. At times his body swayed with his outpourings; other times he was still. Tears poured profusely down his cheeks, soaking his shirt. Curious family members who secretly peeked in invariably burst into tears.
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.