Only my footsteps in the snow,
Only the glow of my fire,
Only a choir of wind to sing the benediction.
But I feast on memories
In a holy place.
It has been so long since I have heard my own voice
It startles me
When I say the grace.
May all things lost, apart, alone
Find some small shelter of their own.
Wisdom consists in doing the next thing you have to do, doing it with your whole heart and finding delight in doing it.And the DELIGHT is the sense of the sacred.