Spirit that hears each one of us,
hears all that is --
Listens, listens, hears us out --
inspire us now!
Our own pulse beats in every
stranger's throat.
And also within the flowered ground
beneath our feet.
We can hear it in water, in wood, and
even in stone.
We are earth of this earth, and
we are bone of this bone.
This is a prayer I sing, for we
have forgotten this and so
the earth is perishing.
Love is spirit incarnate: powerful, courageous, and splendid. It is light in dark times, a spring in dry times, a fire in cold times, and a gathering of allies in the fearful and questioning times. It is not ignorant of consequences or uncaring of effects. And, it is passionate and disciplined, wild and domesticated, a demanding task and a delightful play … a paradox, a presence with many faces.
