The sun hears the fields talking about effort
and the sun smiles,
and whispers to me, "Why don't the fields just rest, for
I am willing to do
everything
to help them grow?"
Rest, my dears, in prayer.
I have a feeling that my boat has struck, down there in the depths, against a great thing. And nothing happens! Nothing ...
Silence ... Waves ...
Nothing happens? Or has everything happened,
and are we standing now, quietly, in the new life?
