We come into this stillness like snowfall, the air alive with angels, every blessed flake singular and mysterious, what's outside quiet now, and changing form. Quickening, we breathe silence. Presence holds our lives in hush. Light dazzles. Listening, we learn to answer.
Dear friend, do you not see
That whatever we look upon here
Is but reflection, merely a shadow,
Of what is invisible to our earthly eyes?
Dear friend, do you not know
That the jarring noises of the world
Are but an echo distorted
Of triumphant harmonies?
Dear friend, do you not sense
That in all the world is only
What one heart says to another
In silent greeting?