Speak to me of quiet places, of treasures yet to be found, of peace that flows like a river.
Tell me of tranquil places that no hand has marred, no storm has scarred.
Give me visions of standing in sunlight or feeling spring mist against my cheek.
Show me the paths that wind through the wild lilies and beds of buttercups.
Sing me the songs of the spheres, the mingled voices of wrens and meadow-larks, the lowing of gentle cows and the whinny of the mare talking to her colt.
Lead me past the glass smooth pond where frogs croak of there graduation from frisky tadpoles to squat green frogs that wait patiently for a flying insect.
Find me a place in the sun to sit and think and listen to the sweet inner- voice that says so quietly – – peace be still.
The earth has always been talking to us, but many of us have lost our sensitivities to sound and vibration, so we do not hear her.
JOSEPH RAEL, UTE