Through the Cracks.
And the fog lifts. The dawn breaks. Creativity is awakening through cracks. Silence is leaving through the gaps in the soul. Spring is drawing close. And with it . . . hope.
The World Is Mine
When despair for the world grows in me, and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be ... I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought or grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. - Wendell Berry