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My period had come for Prayer—
No other Art—would do—


My Tactics missed a rudiment—
Creator—Was it you?


God grows above—so those who pray
Horizons—must ascend—
And so I stepped upon the North
To see this Curious Friend—


His House was not—no sign had He—
By Chimney—nor by Door
Could I infer his Residence—
Vast Prairies of Air

Unbroken by a Settler—
Were all that I could see—
Infinitude—Had’st Thou no Face
That I might look on Thee?


The Silence condescended—


Creation stopped—for Me—


But awed beyond my errand—
I worshipped—did not “pray”—



The light on my daughter’s face, and the face, were so beautiful that I said “I wish I could draw you,” and to my surprise she volunteered to hold still for 10-15 minutes.


It’s not a bad impression. It has that faraway look she has when she’s thinking. Naturally, it’s not as beautiful as the original.

A member of my congregation has translated the benediction we say each Sunday into Spanish (the English version is at that link). He’s an excellent linguist, fluent in German and English as well as his native Spanish, accomplished in French also, and with a poet’s ear for language. This coming Sunday some of us will say our benediction in Spanish, some in English, and some both, at the close of our Flower Communion service:


Vete en paz al mundo

Mantén tu valentía

Sostén lo bueno con firmeza

No pagues maldad con maldad

Fortalece a los frágiles de corazón

Apoya a los débiles

Auxilia a los que sufren

Goza de la belleza

Expresa amor con palabra y acción

Honra a todos los seres.


Thank you, G.!

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