What shall I do
with this quiet joy?
It calls forth the expanse
of my soul, calls
it forth to go singing
through the world...
calls it forth
to bear into this world
a place
where light will glisten
the edge of every wing
and blade of grass,
shine along every hair on every head,
gleam among the turnings of every wave,
glorify
the turning open of each life,
each human hand
How I like things to be done quietly and without fuss... Let truth be done in silence "till it is forced to speak," and then should it only whisper, all those whom it may concern will hear.
