We Are Part Of A

I Got Four Volumes Of The Letters And Speeches Of Oliver Cromwell. He Is Prominent Among The Great Unread, And Treated So Oddly By History That I Wanted To Hear His Side Of Things.

A Sermon Is A Form That Yields A Certain Kind Of Meaning In The Same Way That, Say, A Sonnet Is A Form That Deals With A Certain Kind Of Meaning That Has To Do With Putting Things In Relation To Each Other, Allowing For The Fact Of Complexity Reversal, Such Things. Sermons Are, At Their Best, Excursions Into Difficulty That Are Addressed To People Who Come There In Order To Hear That.

I Have Spent My Life Watching, Not To See Beyond The World, Merely To See, Great Mystery, What Is Plainly Before My Eyes. I Think The Concept Of Transcendence Is Based On A Misreading Of Creation. With All Respect To Heaven, The Scene Of The Miracle Is Here, Among Us. The Eternal As An Idea Is Much Less Preposterous Than Time, And This Very Fact Should Seize Our Attention.

Well, But You Two Are Dancing Around In Your Iridescent Little Downpour, Whooping And Stomping As Sane People Ought To Do When They Encounter A Thing So Miraculous As Water.

I Believe That Reality Is Vastly Richer Than The Cursory Attention We Usually Give It Permits Us To Understand. I Like To Write Through A Consciousness That Allows Me To Suggest Something Of This Richness.