In The Beginning Was The Word, And

There Was Only The Dark Infinity In Which Nothing Was. And Something Happened. At The Distance Of A Star Something Happened, And Everything Began. The Word Did Not Come Into Being, But It Was. It Did Not Break Upon The Silence, But It Was Older Than The Silence And The Silence Was Made Of It.

Although My Grandmother Lived Out Her Long Life In The Shadow Of Rainy Mountian, The Immense Landscape Of The Continental Interior Lay Like Memory In Her Blood

The Highest Human Purpose Is Always To Reinvent And Celebrate The Sacred.

To Look Upon That Landscape In The Early Morning, With The Sun At Your Back, Is To Lose The Sense Of Proportion.

They Have Assumed The Names And Gestures Of Their Enemies, But Have Held On To Their Own, Secret Souls; And In This There Is A Resistance And An Overcoming, A Long Outwaiting.