There is a place past walls. Though I have barely touched it, still it awaits me. To bathe in the love of God ... past longing, past war, alone in infinite space. A wind of light through what once I called my self, behind, suspending the self in it, rendering what I was transparent until all I am is that through which God's love unfolds, through which God's will be done.
The silence of the present moment was awe-inspiring in its power, oceanic was the word that came to mind, as it carried away everything in its path. The flow of our liturgy had become one with nature's incessant movement from light to dark and back again.