Only the Spirit of the Holy One can impart to the human spirit the knowledge of the holy. Yet as electric power flows only through a conductor, so the Spirit flows through Truth and must find some measure of Truth in the mind before It can illuminate the heart. Faith wakes at the voice of truth but responds to no other sound... Still, there must be humble penitence in the heart before Truth can produce faith.
The marrow of who I am
is a tree struck by lightning
of anger and sadness, shattering
heartwood upon the earth.
The marrow of who I am
is made by the only Mother
who stands simply at each and every door,
listening to love's undying cry
melt into her very heart.
The marrow of who I am
is always creating new blood,
a life innocent to this world,
safe in the mystery of forgivenesses home.