Let me not deplete my strength attacking the thick vines behind which my head, bed-ridden with the sickness of words, hides from the living world. Instead of seeking peace by means of increasing violence, let me breathe deeply into the heart’s vaulted silence. Let the work be accomplished in this private canyon, which the clean red rivers in my veins continually carve. Let the refined Will find me upright and still: quiet enough to hear the cries of a crumbling spirit for guidance and clarity; honest enough to number myself among the hungry, the fearful, and the helpless; humble enough to fling myself at the feet of my Lord and beg, Please, let me sing.
Beautiful! Thank you
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Brian, we started our morning meditation with your prayer. We read it out loud and love the similar sounds in many of the sentences. Here is one: “quiet enough to hear the cries of a crumbling spirit for guidance and clarity.” We then got quiet. Thanks.
“The quieter you become, the more you hear.” Ram Dass
I thought of Zion, where the water cuts through the red rock, the vaulted silence there.
Very powerful!!!