The pot, the poem, the lesson – the universe speaks in forms that tell us of our own. A vast theatre whose architecture, whose movement and sound, whose episodes have us billed in cosmic roles, speaking lines we cannot memorise for we know them for the first time consciously only when we utter them, developing character and destiny amid what scenery.*
(M. C. Richards)
There is so much to be learned of Divine Beauty from the silence of God.**
May there be some thin silence in your day.