Only my footsteps in the snow,
Only the glow of my fire,
Only a choir of wind to sing the benediction.
But I feast on memories
In a holy place.
It has been so long since I have heard my own voice
It startles me
When I say the grace.
May all things lost, apart, alone
Find some small shelter of their own.
We each contain an enduring spark of that Wisdom at the heart of all creation.Isolated and unsupported, it is but a small spark.United with others, those sparks grow into a flame of illumination and strength for us all.