O Silent Meeting, starting with a sigh
Of helpless awaiting for God's Presence there,
Each one alone, together sit, and I
Of my own breathing in and out aware.
The breath of God doth move within my heart
As surely in, and out, as that of me.
The Seed there needs to breathe if it's to start
To grow, to act within my life, to be
As breathing can't in life be hurried much,
So, too, the Seed will take its breathing space.
And, giving over will, desire, and such
I wait, expectant, bound to time and place.
Our mingled breathings fertilize the Seed,
And help us grow from Inward Light to deed.
Love is spirit incarnate: powerful, courageous, and splendid. It is light in dark times, a spring in dry times, a fire in cold times, and a gathering of allies in the fearful and questioning times. It is not ignorant of consequences or uncaring of effects. And, it is passionate and disciplined, wild and domesticated, a demanding task and a delightful play … a paradox, a presence with many faces.