There are moments when the Earth reveals itself as more than simply a landscape and we are reminded that it has always been something sacred.
As the sun emerges above the horizon, light begins to pour across the desert.As it traces every ridge and valley, as if with the slow hand of eternity, stone begins to glow as if it has caught fire.This fire, though, is not one that destroys, it simply illuminates.It seems sent to remind us that even the oldest, stillest things are alive. The land seems to breathe as it wakes and the distant mountains watch and listen.Left far behind, the noise of the modern world falls silent as something ancient within me remembers how to be still.
I imagine the first soul who stood upon this ridge. He had no language to describe the beauty, no theology to describe the sacred, and no philosophy to explain the feeling rising within his chest. He only knew that he stood before something greater than himself. Perhaps, in the silence of that moment, reverence was born.
I think that same reverence remains within each of us, buried beneath centuries of forgetting.
Standing here, I do not feel like an outsider, or simply an observer. I feel like a descendant returning to an inheritance that was never truly lost. The light upon these ridges reminds me that we were shaped by places like this.It reminds me that before we built temples, we found them. Before we created idols to be worshipped beneath roofs, we worshipped the land and the open sky.Nature itself was our temple.
The Earth hasn’t forgotten us.She has never stopped trying to call us home. We have simply forgotten that we know the way.
Limited Edition of 25 prints each signed and numbered
Want to see what Before We Built Temples would look like in your home or office? Click here to request a free mock up!
There are moments when the Earth reveals itself as more than simply a landscape and we are reminded that it has always been something sacred.
As the sun emerges above the horizon, light begins to pour across the desert.As it traces every ridge and valley, as if with the slow hand of eternity, stone begins to glow as if it has caught fire.This fire, though, is not one that destroys, it simply illuminates.It seems sent to remind us that even the oldest, stillest things are alive. The land seems to breathe as it wakes and the distant mountains watch and listen.Left far behind, the noise of the modern world falls silent as something ancient within me remembers how to be still.
I imagine the first soul who stood upon this ridge. He had no language to describe the beauty, no theology to describe the sacred, and no philosophy to explain the feeling rising within his chest. He only knew that he stood before something greater than himself. Perhaps, in the silence of that moment, reverence was born.
I think that same reverence remains within each of us, buried beneath centuries of forgetting.
Standing here, I do not feel like an outsider, or simply an observer. I feel like a descendant returning to an inheritance that was never truly lost. The light upon these ridges reminds me that we were shaped by places like this.It reminds me that before we built temples, we found them. Before we created idols to be worshipped beneath roofs, we worshipped the land and the open sky.Nature itself was our temple.
The Earth hasn’t forgotten us.She has never stopped trying to call us home. We have simply forgotten that we know the way.
Limited Edition of 25 prints each signed and numbered
Want to see what Before We Built Temples would look like in your home or office? Click here to request a free mock up!
