In the summer evenings the sun arrives in my lounge, and at about 9.30pm there is a golden late afternoon light that pours in. It’s a magic moment, one I have always enjoyed. 

The other day with all the unrest going on something wanted to be written on the blank sun-drenched paper on the wall:

At some point

Beyond it all,

New truth becomes a necessary harbour

At which to dock and weigh anchor,

make new prayers

and holy actions.

the conversation continues here

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