The gods are less for their love of praise.
Above and
below them all is a spirit that needs nothing
but its own wholeness, its
health and ours.
It has made all things by dividing itself.
It will be
whole again.
To its joy we come together --
the seer and the seen, the
eater and the eaten,
the lover and the loved.
In our joining it knows
itself. It is with us then,
not as the gods whose names crest in unearthly
fire,
but as a little bird hidden in the leaves
who sings quietly and
waits, and sings.
~ Wendell Berry
~