Into my life You came like a storm of monsoon
banging down from the eastern sky.
And You scattered me, like the wind disperses
dry grass and the petals of flowers.
Out of myself You scattered me into Nothingness,
Beyond the Nowhere, beyond the Beyond.
The earth is languishing for more contemplatives. We have not even been courteous to her, much less respectful. We have never sincerely asked forgiveness for our massive exploitation of her. We have failed to see that she is numinous and to treat her with proper deference as our mother. It is time now for the child to mother the mother. Nothing less than a mysticism that can perceive the diaphany of the divine at the heart of matter itself is capable of experiencing mystical union with nature. Even if we have not had a vivid mystical experience, we can learn in prayer to meditate on what the union could imply.