let us cultivate here,
seeded as bells ringing in
ancient summons,
that to serve is to be at peace.

let us not put aside, for
distance days hence,
looking not away but towards
this challenging landscape
with a child's innocence.

for our comfort is found in the hills,
found by night lamp,
found out bound on long
singing passages,  
found in the praise of
our infinitesimal days
and knowing what it means to
give and receive.

we will move inches
as if in great division, the
soft foundations of creed.
suffer the glance of the pure,
strain beneath the weights
that we have shouldered,
in preparation to receive the gifts
given without regulation.

to love the hand of the builder
and question the steward his excess.  
to seek, clarification and pardon,
knowing that in it, it is frail,
and we come in peace.