What struck me most was the silence. It was a great silence, unlike any I have ever encountered on Earth, so vast and deep that I began to hear my own body... There were more stars in the sky than I expected. The sky was deep black, yet at the same time bright with sunlight. The Earth was small, light blue, and so touchingly alone, our home that must be defended like a holy relic.
Home is where the heart is not famished, the eye not starved, the Sacred not banished or desecrated. The Sacred cannot be caught in formulas. It cannot be analyzed, not even in terms of ecology, as beauty cannot be caught in the semantics of esthetics. Fingers pointing toward the Transcendent need no vocabulary, for they do not preach. Beyond the dialects of all religions they witness to a religious attitude toward life itself.
~ from FINGERS POINTING TOWARD THE SACRED by Frederick Franck
