As the conscious thread within me
meets the outer cords of strife
may this double thread remind me
of the warp and weft of life.

The eternal soul within me
forms not a single strand
of the mystery and the oneness
connecting Spirit to my hand.

There’s the outer thread that calls me,
hears the eagle’s wind-borne cry,
chants in tune with soaring choirs,
creates songs and lullabies.

Grant that You may grasp me fully,
keep these golden silks entwined,
weave the inner thread of Spirit
with this outer life of mine.



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Golden Thread

We go to school to learn, yet there are many things we just know intuitively without being taught. We know


Morning Time

In the quiet of the morning, there is time. Time to hear a chirping song and feel the wind’s caress