Dark and cold we may be, but this
Is no winter now. The frozen misery
Of centuries breaks, cracks, begins to move;
The thunder is the thunder of the floes,
The thaw, the flood, the upstart Spring.
This is our time is Now, when illusions
Comes up to face us everywhere,
Never to leave us till we take
The longest stride of Spirit the
Child of God can ever take.
Affairs are now soul size,
The enterprise is surrendering into Self.
What are we waiting for? It can take
Sooo many lifetimes to wake up…
But will we wake, for Love’s sake?
Christopher Fry, a rendering
