For your prayer
your journey into God,
may you be given a small storm
a little hurricane
named after you, persistent enough
to get your attention
violent enough
to give you to new depths
strong enough
To shake you to the roots
majestic enough to remind you of your origin:
made of the earth
yet steeped in eternity
frail human dust
yet soaked with infinity.
If I knew for certain that I should die next week, I would still be able to sit at my desk all week and study with perfect equanimity, for I know now that life and death make a meaningful whole.
