O Silent Meeting, starting with a sigh
Of helpless awaiting for God's Presence there,
Each one alone, together sit, and I
Of my own breathing in and out aware.
The breath of God doth move within my heart
As surely in, and out, as that of me.
The Seed there needs to breathe if it's to start
To grow, to act within my life, to be
As breathing can't in life be hurried much,
So, too, the Seed will take its breathing space.
And, giving over will, desire, and such
I wait, expectant, bound to time and place.
Our mingled breathings fertilize the Seed,
And help us grow from Inward Light to deed.
Wolves have what it takes to live in peace. They communicate lavishly. By gestures -- the smile, for instance -- and by sounds, from the big social howls to the conversational whimpers. They even seek to control by sound first, not biting. A full-grown wolf will plead with you not to take its possessions. And you in turn can plead with a wolf. It glances at your eyes, desists from what has displeased you and walks off as if indifferent.
