When Experience Flies Into Realms

The Fundamentalists Of Every Faith Remain Blind To The Truth That The “sigh Within The Prayer Is The Same In The Heart Of The Christian, The Muslim, And The Jew.” I Have Seen This Unity With My Eyes, Heard It With My Ears, Felt It With All My Being.

Faith Of Cranes Is A Love Song To The Beauty And Worth Of The Lives We Are Able To Lead In The World Just As It Is, Troubled Though It Be... The Writing Is Honest, Intensely Lived, And Overflowing With Heart: Broken, Mended, And Whole.

I Wish There Really Was Such A Thing As A Time-clock Puncher, Though. I Wish Some Gigantic, Surly, Stone-fisted Soap Mahoney-type Guy Went Around The World Smashing Every Clock In Sight Till There Weren't Any More And People Got So Confused About When To Go To The Mill Or School Or Church That They Gave Up And Did Something Interesting Instead.

There Are Many Things Worth Telling That Are Not Quite Narrative. And Eternity Itself Possesses No Beginning, Middle Or End. Fossils, Arrowheads, Castle Ruins, Empty Crosses: From The Parthenon To The Bo Tree To A Grown Man's Or Woman's Old Stuffed Bear, What Moves Us About Many Objects Is Not What Remains But What Has Vanished. There Comes A Time, Thanks To Rivers, When A Few Beautiful Old Teeth Are All That Remain Of The Two-hundred-foot Spires Of Life We Call Trees. There Comes A River, Whose Current Is Time, That Does A Similar Sculpting In The Mind.

When Experience Flies Into Realms That Language Cannot Touch, Honesty Demands Beyond-language.