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.
Gratitude for the gift of life is the primary wellspring of allreligions, the hallmark of the mystic, the source of all true art….It isa privilege to be alive in this time when we can choose to take part inthe self-healing of our world.