And you — what of your rushed and
useful life? Imagine setting it all down —
papers, plans, appointments, everything,
leaving only a note: "Gone to the fields
to be lovely. Be back when I'm through
with blooming".
You are not obliged to be beautiful You don't have to shine. Blooming will happen when it happens. If you can be still for a moment you might notice that the roots that feed you are still reaching silently through the dark.
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Spirit that hears each one of us, hears all that is -- Listens, listens, hears us out -- inspire us now! Our own pulse beats in every stranger's throat. And also within the flowered ground beneath our feet. We can hear it in water, in wood, and even in stone. We are earth of this earth, and we are bone of this bone. This is a prayer I sing, for we have forgotten this and so the earth is perishing.