Two hundred years ago Issa heard the morning birds singing sutras to this suffering world. I heard them too, this morning, which must mean, since we will always have a suffering world, we must also always have a song.
Newsletter Subscription
There is no cost to have the Friends of Silence monthly letter sent to you each month.
Now are come the days of brown leaves. They fall from the trees; they flutter on the ground. ... I hear them tell you of their borning days, when they did come into the world as leaves. ... Today, they were talking of the time before their borning days of the springtime. ... They told how they were a part of earth and air, before their tree-borning days. And now they are going back. They go back to the earth again. But they do not die.
~ from THE SINGING CREEK WHERE THE WILLOWS GROW by Opal Whitely