A Voice not daunted by "You Can't do that!"
A voice lighting fires for children
Whose spark of hope
Is fast sputtering out
A voice that saw the gift in each
And opened the door to winds of change
That ignited the dormant creative possibilities in each
And gave them the vision, power and will to transform
The world.
Silence ... And in the west, the ever-setting sun consumed itself, surrounded by its circling sisters, rushing with the speed of light toward the point systems and cosmic galaxies had been fleeing from the beginning, toward darkness and the primordial Fiat. And across the cold ocean of space, audible as the music of the spheres, the defining cry of creation comes. Maranatha!