The phoebe sits on her nest Hour after hour, Day after day, Waiting for life to burst out From under her warmth. Can I weave a nest of silence, weave it of listening, listening, listening, Layer upon layer? But one must first become small, Nothing but a presence, Attentive as a nesting bird, Proffering no slightest wish Toward anything that might happen or be given, Only the warm, faithful waiting, contained in one’s smallness. Beyond the question, the silence. Before the answer, the silence.
O God, in this time of change and unrest, help us to sort living truths from dying customs. Help us to have both the courage to look beyond the expected and familiar ways and the humility to recognize the wisdom of them.
~ from PLAIN PRAYER IN A COMPLICATED WORLD by Avery Brooke
