On a sould discovery journey in the desert, our group included Miguel Gruntlein, who had studied the Peruvian flute. Early each morning I would hear Miguel somehwere near the camp playing the most serene song to gree the dawn with the same haunting tune; as we moved camp, the tune changed. When asked, Miguel said he was playing the songs of the canyon. Each place has its own song and reflects a unique facet of his soul that comes alive in the particular wild place he visits, a conversation between Miguel and the wild.
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day
Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world