...Deep. deep down in the earth
There is the pure water
The way is down
The old sources have become clogged
New wells are sought...
That might be there
Deep down
For us
I have met her
That one
Who holds a true divining rod
That one who is seeking pure water
Observing the rhythms of nature and recurring cycles of the year, Henry Beston describes what he calls the "pilgrimages of the sun" across the sky, and at night, strolling the beach, "the dust of the stars" that fill "the night sky in all its divinity of beauty." For a moment of night, we have a glimpse of ourselves and of our world islanded in its stream of stars--pilgrims of mortality voyaging between horizons across eternal seas of space and time. Nature is a part of our humanity and without some awareness and experience of that divine mystery we cease to be human.