I Knew That, When Needed, Mountains Would

Eventually, All Things Merge Into One, And A River Runs Through It. The River Was Cut By The World's Great Flood And Runs Over Rocks From The Basement Of Time. On Some Of The Rocks Are Timeless Raindrops. Under The Rocks Are The Words, And Some Of The Words Are Theirs. I Am Haunted By Waters.

Slowly We Became Silent, And Silence Itself If An Enemy To Friendship.

At The Time I Did Not Know That Stories Of Life Are Often More Like Rivers Than Books.

I Knew That, When Needed, Mountains Would Move For Me.

As For My Father, I Never Knew Whether He Believed God Was A Mathematician But He Certainly Believed God Could Count And That Only By Picking Up God's Rhythms Were We Able To Regain Power And Beauty. Unlike Many Presbyterians, He Often Used The Word "beautiful.