Narrow is the boundary of "now" and "not-yet" Deep and dark it stretches like an ancient passageway no map has ever marked. One by one we walk it step by solitary step. Not hand in hand, Not side by side, But sounding the distance with our tears. Hope is the chorus sounding, "Come!" Hope is the embrace, waiting to welcome. Hope is the companion, In-Between . . .
~ Sr. Mary Frances Fleischaker, thanks to Muriel Benz
If only we know, boss, what the stones and rain and flowers say. Maybe they call -- call us -- and we don’t hear them. When will people’s ears open, boss? When shall we have our eyes open to see? When shall we open our arms to embrace everything -- stones, rain, flowers, and men? What d'you think about that, boss? And what do your books have to say about it.
