I THANK Thee, O Father, for making the four winds sweep broad spaces; and for the white moon feather on the cap of blue night. I thank Thee, O Father, for the sea like a forest of spruces in a storm; the sea supremely magnificant. I thank Thee, O Father, for the harrow of the dawn with its golden disks. For the letters of a Word touching the strands of Silence, playing on Silence as a harp, and through its music, revealing the naked beauty of a dream -- for Speech, O Father, I thank Thee. I thank Thee, O Father, for pain, even pain and long suffering: the pain of a boy losing his dog through death -- a first sorrow; the pain of a woman going through child-birth; the pain of Youth giving up first one parent and then the other, for by these we are baptised and strengthened and given dignity. I thank Thee, O Father, for Death with its simplicity. After a long day of flame and wind, Death comes tenderly giving us back to the earth, the reaching leaf, and the cloud. I thank Thee most, O Father, that I am humble, for the humble shall serve Thee best. |