When from our better selves we have too long
Been parted by the hurrying world, and droop,
Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired,
How gracious, how benign, is Solitude.
~ William Wordsworth, The Prelude IV 354
When each day is sacred
When each hour is sacred
When each instant is sacred
Earth and you, space and you
hearing the sacred through time
You'll reach the fields of light.