Mission
The text ends here, gives way to a whisper. The congregation dies in a song. The sermon is an old man planting flowers. The earth and the sky hum along. ~ [ 2098 ]
The text ends here, gives way to a whisper. The congregation dies in a song. The sermon is an old man planting flowers. The earth and the sky hum along. ~ [ 2098 ]
Let’s not rely on teams and committees, congresses and senates, parliaments, houses, and courts. Instead, let’s form choirs for all ages, and from all ethnic backgrounds, and all walks of life. Let’s have a widespread wealth of daily public performances, and broadcast these instead of speeches and news. Let’s remind one another that we’re made not for strife, but for song — indeed, that this grand manifestation we call the […]
The song in his heart was stuck in his throat. And the attending doctor said to himself, I must be sure not to die this way. . [ 1672 ]
Every bristle in every broom, every step on every stone, Every smile and every groan, every solace and every loss, Every full and empty palm, every laugh and every dance, Every note of every song — one joy, one peace, one love. . [ 1400 ]