Creator of the Universe, we know that You are Mystery beyond mystery, yet our finite minds and fragile fears often want to contain You in a way that keeps us comfortable. We resist stretching our beliefs to include the new. We hesitate to break with the past, even if it is filled with illusion. Help us to be open to your revelation, not merely because it is new, but because it can bring us closer to the truth of who You are and who we are in You.
I have never written the music that was in my heart to write; perhaps I never shall with this brain and these fingers, but I know that hereafter it will be written: when, instead of these few inlets of the senses through which we now secure impressions from all without, there shall be a flood of impressions from all sides; and instead of these few tones of our little octave there shall be an infinite score of harmonies -- for I feel it, I am sure of it. This world of music, whose borders even now I have scarcely entered, is a reality, is immortal.