• Love is the way messengers from the mystery tell us things.
    Love is the Mother
    We are Her children.
    She shines inside us, visible-invisible, as we trust
    Or lose trust, or feel it start to grow again.

    The bud
    Stands for all things,
    Even for those things that don't flower,
    For everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing,
    Though sometimes it is necessary
    To reteach a thing its loveliness,
    To put a hand on the brow of the flower,
    And retell it in words and in touch,
    It is lovely
    Until it flowers again, from within, of self-blessing. 

    - Galway Kinnel