Sacred hart in the blackening wilderness
stately deer, gracefully bounding,
holy vision of the Eternal Heart;
countless, unending blood memories,
surge like gold through your rhythmic veins,
ancient paths stir the soul's journey.
Sleeping titans stand on the edge,
disregarding the dark, grasping webs of life,
or silver antlers shining with white wisdom,
of pulsating pearls of poetry flowing
from open eyes of song,
as the saintly sculpture disappears
from its vanishing home into
a dying paradise.
The experience of solitude is necessary because only in solitude and silence is the living God revealed as the binding source of all that is. The veil is lifted, and we begin to see the wonderful possibilities of life together that surround and inhabit us. This means that, at our worst and darkest moments, we can affirm that we are God's handiwork, that God's image has marked us forever, that the most real thing about us is the Spirit who dwells in every human heart. We may be fundamentally and utterly nothing, we may be creatures marked for death, but we are peculiar beings whose very emptiness has been designed to be inhabited by nothing less than the living God. And it is in the living God that we meet one another. The life of prayer revolves around two poles: solitude and community. God is encountered in both places.