God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
Book of Hours, I 59
How brave you are for slowing down
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to be understood
A reunion of the seminal Indian / European jazz fusion band for NPR's Tiny Desk Concert
My mother is three years younger than Nakba
From the series of Palestinian poets
I pray for Israel, I pray for Palestine
Trio Mandili is a Georgian vocal group, here they perform a piece entitled "The Prayer"
A Lovely Vintage Illustrated Poem About the Meaning and Measure of Enough
