The only little journey we have to make -- the only little moment of transition -- is the moment where we actually become aware of the dignity and beauty and light of the presence in which we already are. I think that being here in this graced planet of landscape, nature, presence, and person is the miracle -- is the journey.
One day when Francis was walking in the woods, he was so filled with delight at the beauty of the world that he wished to express his gratitude with music. He had no violin, so he picked up two sticks and began to play. Birds sang and animals came out and danced. Far-fetched, you say? Perhaps only those who believe that animals dance can hear the violin music of two twigs.