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.
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Now the Work of Christmas Begins - Howard Thurman
When the song of the angels is stilled, when the star in the sky is gone, when the kings and princes are home, when the shepherds are back with their flocks, the work of Christmas begins: to find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among the people, to make music in the heart.