This is thy hour, O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless.
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done.
Thee fully forth emerging silent, gazing,
pondering the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
. . A Baby's cry
shatters barriers
women, men
of every creed,
culture, race
gaze across
the rubbled walls
in wonder finding every face
luminous with godliness!