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)

Where is the power?

Is it the quiet and persistent growth of the oak?

Is it the sunshine, quickening life across the meadow?

Is it my quiet pace, step after step?

Was it in me all along?

Lord, the sun, the path, the procession of days — grant me gratitude for the ingredients of quiet power.

(Letter #3,903)

Let this day, my day, my steps, be simple, Lord.

Great deeds for another day. Intricate complications for another time.

A simple path, even as it turns and winds. One destination.

Let me follow your quiet leading.

(Letter #3,902)

What is it to walk in humility?

Are my eyes downcast, that I miss the sights?

Are my lips sealed, that my voice cannot praise you?

Do I shuffle, and thus slow my approach?

You bid us all walk upright, Lord. Let me rise, walk, erect.

(Letter #3,901)

On the way, on the way.

Let me enjoy the breeze and grasses. Let me sing songs on the way.

This path winds and winds, let me follow it until the end, Lord.

(Letter #3,900)