Sophia 8

In the forest laid low by fire, a first flower rises

from the ash to begin the eternal process 

of reclaiming ruin for life and beauty. 

In verdant fields, I yearly offer living bouquets 

of delicate wildflowers; reaching toward the

sunlight, unfurling to dance in the warm breeze.

You are blessed with this most lovely world; 

of splendid variety and deep meaning. 

Do not despoil your home. 

You are not alone here.

Neither this world, nor the life upon 

and within it may be owned.

You are a worthy part of this vast, unfolding 

masterwork of life; begun in a process 

older than the stars.

You are each a living note 

in the song of all creation. 

A song of such beauty as to inspire many 

to struggle against hopeless odds and 

of such power that one alone may well prevail.

You now perceive but a 

fragment of all you are given. 

Otherwise, you would be overwhelmed 

to breathless tears; by that beauty 

which surrounds you and reveals Me. 

I nourish the born and the unborn, 

composing the bond of parent for child, 

deeper than blood. 

My touch is that gentle breeze which stirs 

but a single leaf; the delicate breath 

of each sleeping infant.

Too often have I observed the workings 

of inhuman will serve oppression. 

I well know the continuing anguish 

a few inflict upon so many. 

Only those who have endured suffering 

are able to fully greet the arrival of joy. 

Your time of weeping soon 

falls behind and is no more. 

In the darkness and through the pain; 

I whisper softly to you of undying love. 

I delight in you. 

You give Me joy simply in your being. 

Of your reverence, I am worthy; 

not by power alone is this so, but by love.