Who walks with beauty has no need of fear;
The sun and moon and stars keep pace . . .
Invisible hands restore the ruined year,
And time, itself, grows beautifully dim.
~ by David Morton in "Heron Dance" # 38, May 2003
The marrow of who I am
is a tree struck by lightning
of anger and sadness, shattering
heartwood upon the earth.
The marrow of who I am
is made by the only Mother
who stands simply at each and every door,
listening to love's undying cry
melt into her very heart.
The marrow of who I am
is always creating new blood,
a life innocent to this world,
safe in the mystery of forgivenesses home.