. . . Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her
unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her
except she be the weaver of your speech . . .
beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
Attending in readiness waiting
My soul meets yours,
Enter, Oh Holy Spirit,
Creation's Lord.
Tending in rapt devotion
Spirit's gentle touch --
Open as an infant's gaze
More insistent than any pain.
Open in steadiness attending
Creation's one and all,
Trusting Its wondrous tenderness.
Am I at least Its child?