You take the pen -- and the lines dance.
You take the flute -- and the notes shimmer.
You take the brush -- and the colors sing.
So all things have meaning and beauty in that space beyond time where You are.
How then, can I hold anything from You?
The fruit of silence is known only to those with experience. There is gradually born within us in and of our silence itself, something that will draw us on to still greater silence. God leads us into solitude to speak to our heart. Let our hearts be a living altar from which there constantly ascends before God pure prayer, with which all our acts should be imbued.