Prayer is that divine seed whose roots draw food from earthly existence. Like the lotus flower that does not bloom in arable ground but in marshes, prayer thrusts its roots into human misery as if into mud. But the lotus flower does not show any trace of the muddy water from which it drew life; turned toward the sky, it blooms.
When the violin
Can forgive the past
It starts singing.
When the violin can forgive
Every wound caused by others
The heart starts singing.