Dwarfed by the sky at night These fearless mountains are nearly lost from sight Track the hill with a harvest moon Moving, shifting on across a winter sky
My thoughts drift away An Illusion of light Feel the rain in the air Where the thin mist is hiding, shrouded [I'm] there
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Everything faded -- beside The light which bathed and warmed, the Presence Your being had opened to. Where it shone, Their life was, and abundantly; it touched Your dullest task and the tasks were easy. Joyful, absorbed, You "'practiced the presence of God" as a Musician Practices hour after hour his art: "A stone before the carver," You "entered into yourself."
~ Denise Levertov on Brother Lawrence's conversion