Saturday, March 13, 2021

You are inexorable: the tide, the wind, the root slowly upending the stone.

I pitifully pray that your will be done, as if my tinkling voice can change events.

Let me come into alignment with what is already to be.

Let the miracles I seek be changes in my own inner life. The world need not alter; yet shall I.

Yes I say, Lord, yes.

(Letter #2,254)