Rubai One - Bruce Moody
Birds mistook St. Francis for a tree.
May I be so free
of nervous haste, ambition and regret
so in the exterpation of thought
that innocence and improvisation
may tell the dawn each day afresh
that fresh is what it is.
Wait Without Hope - T.S. Eliot (For Holy Saturday)
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, For love would be love for the wrong thing; there is yet faith But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
