March 31, 2022
And now: We live in scriptural times. When the last shall be first and the first last. The stone rejected by the builders has become the new cornerstone. The ones you looked down upon are sent to renew you.

The winds of change are blowing everywhere, through our academies, our laboratories, our hermit cells, bringing with them new forces of life and hope, new ways of being, knowing, and understanding.

And so, there is a place for us.

To dream the impossible dream,

To fight the unbeatable foe,

To bear with unbearable sorrow,

To run where the brave dare not go,

Midnight Oil, the rock group:

We carry in our hearts the true country and that cannot be stolen

We walk in the ways of our ancestors and that cannot be broken

Leonard Cohen:

We shall know commonwealth again

A few camping songs:

God has created day silver and green and gold

Grant that the sunset may find us worthy its gifts to hold

Hills of the rocky north home of the beaver

Where still the mighty moose wanders at will

Blue lake and rocky shore I will return once more

I will return I will return I will return

My heart grows sick for thee here in the lowlands

I shall return to thee hills of the north

Blue lake and rocky shore I will return once more

T.S. Elliot:

“Because I cannot go there where streams flow and wild horses drink.”

We are able to go where streams flow and wild horses drink.


I will arise and go no for always night and day, I hear lake water lapping with low sound by the shore, while standing on the highway or on the pavement gray.  I hear it in the deep hearts core.


I come revealing things hidden from the foundation of the world.

Ask and it shall be given.

Seek and you shall find.

Knock and it shall be opened unto you.


Far lands beckon so strange, and fair take all the youth away,

But when the eastern wind blows high and alien skies are gray,

She dreams of a younger day,

Western wind when wilt though blow

That the small rain down can rain

Oh, that my love were in my arms

And I in my bed again

Dante in exile:

I know what it is to eat salt from another’s table and to walk up another’s stare.

They marveled that he spoke not like their scribes and pharisees, but as one having authority.

Where will we go, though has the words of eternal life.

The poet Rilke:

Oh mother, sew him daily an honest confidence task done, guide him close to the garden, give him the counter balancing nights, withhold him…

As in that story long ago, that same sweet love story now is so, thy people shall be my people and thy god, my god.


You would not find out the boundaries of soul by travelling in any direction, so deep a measure does it have.

The sun is new each day.

Veteran’s Day:

They shall not grow old as we who are left grow old.  Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.  The going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.

Ken Henwood:

Are we ready for the epic?

I say:  Yes, we are.


Give me a place to stand and I will move the world.

Peace, I ask of thee oh river

Peace Peace Peace

When I learned to live serenely, cares will cease

From the hills I gather courage vision of the day to be

Strength to lead and faith to follow all are given unto me

Peace, I ask of thee oh river

Peace Peace Peace

Who are then?  We are the many Bringers of the Dawn.