Be helpless, dumbfounded,
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
to gather us up.
So let us rather not be sure of anything...
Then miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence,
Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.
Sacred hart in the blackening wilderness stately deer, gracefully bounding, holy vision of the Eternal Heart; countless, unending blood memories, surge like gold through your rhythmic veins, ancient paths stir the soul's journey. Sleeping titans stand on the edge, disregarding the dark, grasping webs of life, or silver antlers shining with white wisdom, of pulsating pearls of poetry flowing from open eyes of song, as the saintly sculpture disappears from its vanishing home into a dying paradise.
When you see the world as part of yourself, you will take care of it. When you see yourself as part of the world, you will be cared for.
In the shining secret garden, the solitary sign of the crocus speaks once more through blackened snow. The poet's word has revived with the resurrected flower, echoing the refrain of the One Song.
