Warm sun. My worship is a blue sky and 10,000 crickets in the deep wet hay of the field. My vow is the silence under their song. I admire the woodpecker and the dove in simple mathematics of flight. Together we study practical norms. The plowed and planted field is red as brick in the sun and says: "Now is my turn!" Several of us began to sing.
Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief.Do justly, now.Love mercy, now.Walk humbly, now.You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.