Friday, January 6, 2023

Upon what spot will I stand when your power flows through and mountains tremble, rivers change their course, the seas shift?

Where you send me, let me go, for there might be the place. As I walk out of here, let me fling open the door to greet the dawn. Let the birds sing and play as I walk the path from my home down into the village. They know what greatness is in store.

You offer heaps of treasure, invisible. Let me make ready. Thy will be done

(Letter #2,768)