If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.
Attending in readiness waiting My soul meets yours, Enter, Oh Holy Spirit, Creation's Lord. Tending in rapt devotion Spirit's gentle touch -- Open as an infant's gaze More insistent than any pain. Open in steadiness attending Creation's one and all, Trusting Its wondrous tenderness. Am I at least Its child?
Something of supreme rightness Lies at the heart of Life... Like a star or a single white rose Sufficient in Itself... Yet It reaches everywhere Whispering Itself.
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