Monday, August 31, 2015


A human being is a vessel
that God has built for himself 
and filled with his inspiration
so that his works are perfected in it.
Just as a mirror, which reflects all things,
is set in its own container,
so too the rational soul is placed
in the fragile container of the body.
In this way, the body is governed
in its earthly life by the soul,
and the soul contemplates
heavenly things through faith.

O Holy Wisdom, Soaring Power,
encompass us with wings unfurled, 
and carry us, encircling all,
above, below, and through the world.

Every element has a sound,
an original sound from the order of God;
all those sounds unite like
the harmony from harps and zithers.

The earth which sustains humanity
must not be injured,
it must not be destroyed.
When the words come,
they are merely empty shells
without the music.
They live as they are sung,
for the words are the body
and the music the spirit.
There is the Music of Heaven in all things and
we have forgotten how to hear it until we sing.
Underneath all the texts,
all the sacred psalms and canticles,
these watery varieties of sounds and silences,
terrifying, mysterious, whirling
and sometimes gestating and gentle
must somehow be felt in the pulse,
ebb, and flow of the music that sings in me.
My new song must float like a feather
on the breath of God.

We cannot live in a world
that is interpreted for us by others.
An interpreted world is not a hope.
Part of the terror
is to take back our own listening.
To use our own voice.
To see our own light.
With nature's help,
humankind can set
into creation
all that is necessary
and life sustaining.

The marvels of God
are not brought forth from one's self.
Rather, it is more like a chord,
a sound that is played.
The tone does not come
out of the chord itself, but rather,
through the touch of the Musician.
I am, of course,
the lyre and harp of God's kindness.