Sunlit room, warm cover, gentle breeze on the curtains.

The world awaits, let the comfort here go with me there.

Walk with me, Lord.

(Letter #3,913)

The sun rises behind clouds. Without seeing, I trust it to warm the earth.

Let me have faith in what I do not see, Lord, as I work these fields. The seed will grow and a harvest arrive. But while I sow, I see only effort and furrows.

Tomorrow will dawn brightly. Today let me be comforted by trust.

(Lettter #3,912)

So many paths — through bramble, through forest, through sunlit glades. Here by the mountains, they all lead up.

Which path to take? Is one more virtuous than another? Of what note is the harder way, when there are others more easily trod?

The world is not the world. I bring to it the shadows of yesterday, the hopes for tomorrow. Let me see it clearly, Lord. Today, today, today without story.

(Letter #3,911)

A mound of pebbles.

Together they will make a path from my dwelling to the gate of an orchard.

Can I walk mindfully upon it, attentive to the role of each stone?

Are they less in this world, being simply pebbles? Should that affect my mindfulness?

Lord, grant me compassion even to the earth underfoot.

(Letter #3,910)

The dawn breaks the night and brings the day; the day brings a road down which to walk.

Do I belong to the day? The night? The dawn?

Lord, you pour loving kindness along the path I walk: It is the journey to which I belong. The way you have laid out for me.

To the road I belong, your road.

(Letter #3,909)

Supine, my hands and feet just off the rug, nestled in grass.

Does the carpet support me? The grass? Earth underneath?

My bones?

A small world teems among the blades, unnoticed as I wonder about my stillness.

(Letter #3,908)

Is it better to sit in the grass, grounded, or upon a stool, ready for the workday? Where are we more alive to the world?

Is the world alive to us, as well?

Let me greet the dawn, Lord, as the dawn greets me.

(Letter #3,907)

Quiet dwelling, dawn nearing.

My dreams were troubled, and I bring nighttime’s woes with me.

As I leave my home, Lord, let me drop my cares.

When I return, let them have dissolved in the noon sun.

And through the day, Lord, let me forget, forget.

(Letter #3,906)

The real me, the real you. Hidden away in this place. An open field, where all approaches can be seen clearly.

Those who disturb us, I saw them coming from far away, and I did nothing. Yea, I waved them over to us.

Grant me groundedness, Lord. Grant me peace, let me not rob myself of it.

Thy will be done.

(Letter #3,905)

Underfoot, the ground presses up.

I am supported. We all are supported.

Eager am I, to spread the good news.

Thank you, Lord.

(Letter #3,904)