[Lent: day 29/40]
God has never really spoken,
though a thought once crossed His mind.
It is the echo of divine
we hear the birds sing, and that
is the source of all
we see and
by Tukaram; in Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West
, ed. Daniel Ladinsky, p. 343
I am personally a very
word-oriented person, but I'm intrigued by this idea. And really the point of this daily poetry exercise is to stop and think, right? Desert days . . . taking ourselves out of our usual lives to reflect . . . .
His poem "Geronimo
" also talks about how, "The soul becomes quiet in ecstasy," but I ended up ultimately selecting this poem for its evocativeness.