In the midst of the tintinnabulation and hurly-burly I see a silence overflowing with absence of all but Thee and me. I seek an interior place of listening to the divine where even the unspoken, but thought, words of prayer shatter silence.
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.