silence of Eternity on the edge of time. I think it is a pine forest.
Babel took away the Word, until It came to earth, and in material form
took on supreme Spirit coming from the Father. ...


July 26.

I wish I could raise a singing altar of planets by some great
sacrifice. My fingers drummed upon the sands this morning a crude and
simple rhythm. I thought of its influence in displacing planets, and
of the almost infinite musical variations that were set in motion, and
then I compared my crude thrumming with the majestic thunders of the
sea, and realized the insupportable beauty of absolute music. A dog
talks by smell. There are vibrations of smell, as well as of sound or
of heat or of light. And the blind reveal vibration of touch, the
holiest of the senses. We talk now by sound, but are learning to talk
by heat and light. When shall we learn to talk by smell and touch?
Flowers, too, talk by smell. There is nothing but vibration in the
image of God, for LIFE IS NOTHING MORE THAN THE TREMBLING OF HIS
BEAUTY. The awful speed of Truth hardens into fact. Words must not say
more.

A dog taught me this,--Prince, the companion of the silent man. One
should be a priest when he marries two ideas. In any one of the
planets within the singing tissue of my flesh are Dantes and St.
Francises. Creation requires of us infinite crucifixions which we
shall never be able to consummate alone. When I lie on my breasts on
the sand and bury my face in my hands, all Nature receives me as a
human bridegroom, and I sink through time to eternity _creating_ space
around me, that widens and narrows to the reaches of immortality. It