In the busyness of this day grant me a stillness of seeing, O God. In the conflicting voices of my heart grant me a calmness of hearing. Let my seeing and hearing my words and my actions be rooted in a silent certainty of your presence. Let my passions for life and the longings for justice that stir within me be grounded in the experience of your stillness. Let my life be rooted in the ground of your peace, O God, let me be rooted in the depths of your peace.
If only we know, boss, what the stones and rain and flowers say. Maybe they call -- call us -- and we don’t hear them. When will people’s ears open, boss? When shall we have our eyes open to see? When shall we open our arms to embrace everything -- stones, rain, flowers, and men? What d'you think about that, boss? And what do your books have to say about it.
