Life and death,
a twisted vine sharing a single root
A water bright green
stretching to top a twisted yellow
only to wither itself
as another green unfolds overheard.
One leaf atop another
yet under the next,
a vibrant tapestry of arcs and falls
all in the act of becoming.
Death is the passing of life.
And life
is the stringing together of so many
little passings.
I dedicate this winter day to You, as I now enter into the chapel of my heart to sit in stillness with You. May I leave outside the circle of silence all my worries and concerns for this day, as I enter into prayer. 'O Weaver of oneness and Reader of hearts, I know you need no spoken words to tell you of my affection for you. But may these words of prayer be sacraments of my love.'"