Hope is a thing with feathers that perches in the soul,
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all.
~ Emily Dickinson
Religion is a more or less organized way of remembering that every Mystery points to a high reality. A reality overarching and infusing this world with splendor. One pulsing through its veins. Unnoticed and unnamed. Of the Nameless One. A holiness so holy that it fills even our everyday illusions with spiritual meaning.