Grace and Peace to you.
A lone bird slips through the air.
You do not have to explain yourself.
The beating of your heart
is one with the vast, wordless song of the stars,
the great hum of the world.
Rivers murmur praise,
deserts and oceans chant their meditations,
cities recite their industrious psalms;
and in your cell, unheard, unknown,
the mystery of heaven unfurls
in your silence.
No one knows your place,
No one knows your precious belonging.
We can only believe,
The marigold by the roadside
But it is true.
Your only work is to come to trust.
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