From Secret Placesby RumiEvery day the sun risesOut of low word-cloudsInto burning silence. Divine Love: The only constant in the universe, ever faithfully creating, adapting to and wrapping itself around everything old and new under the sun.

A gift of music of music, earnestly played–or prayed–for the healing of Earth. The site is a quarry, a huge scar on the face of earth created by bulldozers carving out fill to broaden the nearby highway from two to four lanes. But in a sacred act of loving resistance, Earth stopped the bulldozers with turquoise water from a spring hidden in the limestone depths. I have participated in the resurrection of this place, not only by going there to play music, but also by documenting photographically the return of vegetation and critter life. The story is a chapter in…

Continuing my “life and death are one” theme from yesterday… SPROUT There was once a coffin that freaked outDue to an injustice that made it poutAs it sought to avengeThe pain and anguish to changeAn innocent life into grass that could sprout. John Sensele

Life and death, two moments in the sacred ongoingness. And they redeem each other, over and over again. Something dies and makes way for something new to be born. Something new is born and conquers death for a time. And on and on. I feel like I should try to explain that, but I don’t think I can. Other than to say I have come to see this way by observing and absorbing the sacredness of creation.