Blessed Dawn: Book Of The Hours

20170720 BLESSED DAWN BOOK OF THE HOURSIt’s almost sunrise. To the east, from here in Capel Curig, sunrise will appear over some of the most scenic of north Welsh mountains of Carnedd y Cribau in a few moments. It’s almost the start of a new day. Nearly, but not quite yet. There’s a hush in the air. A sense of anticipation. All is still.

The sun’s rising is recounted in ancient Celtic and Druid stories of Lugh – dont forget the celebration of Lughnasadh, harvest celebration in about two weeks. Lugh, representing the sun would ‘die’ each evening some say, only to be ‘reborn’ each morning at sunrise. A quotidien resurrection. An opportunity to start afresh. A brand new day to do something positive, to change things, and to enjoy the moment.

There is something ‘magical’ about the dawn. It is a time when the night gives way to the oncoming new day, darkness gives way to light, and secrets and potential are ‘cracked’ open to reveal the glory and majesty of yet another day to enjoy. It’s easy to ‘roll over’ and miss sunrise, it’s possible to be so caught up in the fast pace of our society that we miss the new opportunities given to us each day, and probable that the pressures of the day will ‘crowd out’ this wonder time of spiritual encounter.

Today, the ‘slate is wiped clean’. ‘Seize the day’. Plattitudes? Yes, but nevertheless still ever-so true.

The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you;
don’t go back to sleep.

(Rumi)

And then the sun rises. Bright and new, yellow and fresh, dawn’s light floods into my eyes. A fresh start. A new beginning. Each sunrise is a call to our own daily resurrection. We rise in anticipation, and yet wonder what the day will unveil. For some it will be a happy day, for others a tough day, and for others a sad day – a mixture of these, and more. But, it will be a day like no other. Unique in ever way. Joyous? Joy is an attitude of mind they say, and so, at each sunrise choose joy, regardless of circumstances. The sun has risen.

And, then the day begins.
The son of Hyperion rises on the horizon
in all his brilliance, and
pierces the mist,
and heralds the start of a new day.
The Sun appears.
I find myself standing in awe, in praise of the Sun of righteousness.
Orans.

(Tadhg. Part of the poem: Gökotta [Revisited). Full poem can be viewed here).

Dawn provides us with ‘new’ time to do new things. At each dawn we can:

  • give praise out loud for the beauty of nature, for life itself
  • marvel at the fact that we are the consciousness of the Universe, able to look back on itself
  • revel in the love of That Which Is Larger Than Ourselves
  • desire to make this as good a day as possible whether in praising others, working well, relaxing, listening to others, or experiencing loss, and keening
  • praise and mature by ‘going deep’ and entering silence, or with ritual etc

Ancient sacred text is says: Walk in wisdom…making the best use of the time. (Colossians 4:5 part. The Book). Truly words of wisdom. It is easy to ‘kill time’, to get so caught up on dwelling in the past, over-planning for the future, and the hustle-and-bustle of daily ‘pressures’ that we miss the present moment, are oblivious to current opportunities, and before we know it dusk approaches fast. No, use the time we have, and use it wisely.

‘Dawn is ever the hope of men’ (J R R Tolkien).

Dawn is a time of celebration, a time to greet the new day. The following poem or liturgy, depending how you use it, is so approriate, and has been used by me on many ocassions as verbal liturgy or an unspsoken prayer.

Slowly comes the morning,
softly comes the dawn
slowly and softly – softly and slowly.
Dear gift of Dawn, you come with rays of light.
I call forth my joy to greet the dawn.
In the marrow of my bones, I rejoice.
From the centre of my soul I rejoice.
In my heart of hearts, I rejoice.
From the home of my body, I rejoice.
With all my being, I rejoice.
Dear Gift of Dawn, I rejoice.

(Macrina Wiederkehr)

And, as I gaze eastward the sun is well and truly risen. The sun and all of creation are in a state of praise. Indeed as other ancient text recorded: we shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: and the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into joyous singing, and all the trees of the field, with their branches raised heavenward, will clap their hands…and, yes, stones, even stones and rocks will sing. What better way to greet the sun and the dawn of new hope than with praise by humankind. And so, do mark a sunrise whenever you can, and mark that time with verbal praise, liturgy, a poem or ritual…or with the silent witness of your soul. Sunrises are beautiful, ‘magical’, God-given times. Draw near.

But, there’s more. Remember Rumi’s wise words: Your light is more magnificent than that of sunrise or sunset.’ Now, there’s something to ponder on.

 

7 thoughts on “Blessed Dawn: Book Of The Hours

  1. Thank you my Welsh brother Tadhg. A post of yours a day is just like a benediction. And today I have read two of your posts (odes to the evening and the sunrise), so I am indeed doubly blessed. I love the concept that each day is a resurrection. Something I have often felt. Reminded me of my poem ‘The Remains of the Day’.

    THE REMAINS OF THE DAY

    You have resurrected me.
    You, who rose once and for all,
    lean down each new day,
    restore me with your loving hand
    replace me where I stand.

    You who have resurrected me,
    have taught me how to rise,
    to undo all the ropes,
    and the remains of the day
    which keep me tied.

    You my resurrection,
    are my high and holy place.
    From which I can see
    from a different vantage,
    and renew my perspective.

    You who are resurrected,
    teach me how to follow.
    Show me where my eyes
    and heart must rest,
    lead me to living waters.

    You, my resurrection
    restore me to your side.
    And cleanse me
    from the ashes
    of the days left behind.

    Ana Lisa de Jong
    Living Tree Poetry
    Nov 16

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thank you for your encouraging words. And thank you so much for sharing your poetry: beautifully written, deep and so apt. That we are resurrected each day is so wonderful.

    One on my favourite nearby places, nearby, is Beddgelert, a very small and picturesque village. It’s named after a monk called Galert, a monk who lived there some 1400 years ago. Beddgelert translates into English as ‘the grave of Galert’. I find it so interesting that ‘bedd’ in Welsh means ‘grave’. And so, each night we all go to our bed, our grave. And, yet there is a daily resurrection.

    Thank you so much for your words and poem, Blessings, Tadhg.

    Like

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