| p28 | No light lights the eyes of those who deny the sacred. It is denial of the true nature of being and the light fails for want of a hospitable home. The sacred is a beacon cast out into the cosmos and singing in a pebble; calling for response in a universal mother tongue; the tongue of the timeless and universal that is there to be called up from within what appears to be, a seed calling from the ground the splendor of the apple tree. To think nothing is asked is to never be born. Birth is being asked, a seed come to bloom and bear fruit. To never bloom and bear fruit is to languish in meaninglessness. Ahhh … such depth denied. Such beauty forsaken. |