This is thy hour, O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless.
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done.
Thee fully forth emerging silent, gazing,
pondering the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
The world is hungry for goodness and recognizes it when it sees it...When we glimpse it in people we applaud them for it. We long to be just a little like them. Through them we let the world’s pain into our hearts, and we find compassion.