Once more I would speak of Him.
God gave me the voice and the burning lips though not the speech.
And unworthy am I for the fuller word, yet I would summon my heart to my lips.
Jesus loved me and I knew not why.
And I loved Him because He quickened my spirit to heights beyond my stature, and to depths beyond my sounding.
Love is a sacred mystery.
To those who love, it remains forever wordless;
But to those who do not love, it may be but a heartless jest.
Jesus called me and my brother when we were laboring in the field.
I was young then and only the voice of dawn had visited my ears.
But His voice and the trumpet of His voice was the end of my labor and the beginning of my passion.
And there were naught for me then but to walk in the sun and worship the loveliness of the hour.
Could you conceive a majesty too kind to be majestic? And a beauty too radiant to seem beautiful?
Could you hear in your dreams a voice shy of its own rapture?
He called me and I followed Him.
That evening I returned to my father's house to get my other cloak.
And I said to my mother, "Jesus of Nazareth would have me in His company."
And she said, "Go His way my son, even like your brother."
And I accompanied Him.
His fragrance called me and commanded me, but only to release me.
Love is a gracious host to his guests though to the unbidden his house is a mirage and a mockery.
Now you would have me explain the miracles of Jesus.
We are all the miraculous gesture of the moment; our Lord and Master was the centre of that moment.
Yet it was not in His desire that His gestures be known.
I have heard Him say to the lame, "Rise and go home, but say not to the priest that I have made you whole."
And Jesus' mind was not with the cripple; it was rather with the strong and the upright.
His mind sought and held other minds and His complete spirit visited other spirits.
And is so doing His spirit changed these minds and these spirits.
It seemed miraculous, but with our Lord and Master it was simply like breathing the air of every day.
And now let me speak of other things.
On a day when He and I were alone walking in a field, we were both hungry, and we came to a wild apple tree.
There were only two apples hanging on the bough.
And He held the trunk of the tree with His arm and shook it, and the two apples fell down.
He picked them both up and gave one to me. The other He held in His hand.
In my hunger I ate the apple, and I ate it fast.
Then I looked at Him and I saw that He still held the other apple in His hand.
And He gave it to me saying, "Eat this also."
And I took the apple, and in my shameless hunger I ate it.
And as we walked on I looked upon His face.
But how shall I tell you of what I saw?
A night where candles burn in space,
A dream beyond our reaching;
A noon where all shepherds are at peace and happy that their flock are grazing;
An eventide, and a stillness, and a homecoming;
Then a sleep and a dream.
All these things I saw in His face.
He had given me the two apples. And I knew He was hungry even as I was hungry.
But I now know that in giving them to me He had been satisfied. He Himself ate of other fruit from another tree.
I would tell you more of Him, but how shall I?
When love becomes vast love becomes wordless.
And when memory is overladen it seeks the silent deep.