Out of the summer I am weaving the pattern web of the future in
threads of desire. Every resurrection of a body is the last judgment
of infinite planets, which fly to or flee from the human song of God's
first syllable. Yet those that flee may be purchased by an infinite
Redemption. This opens a terrible possibility of mercy. Is God
continually becoming man for the love of His image? This is the joyful
secret of God's sad fourth syllable. I clothe it in words to guard it
from my intellect. Infinite incarnations prove time an illusion, since
they make it eternity. God's Sacred Heart is the silent ocean beyond
the universe. It reflects. The Incarnation is its flood. The Host
tonight was more white than shining silver in a lonely pearl sky. It
was Absolute Music unveiled to the human eye. Tonight I stood out for
long alone with the stars, and watched a thunderstorm come over the
sea. We must guard our dreams and intuitions not only from the
intellects of others but most of all from our own. Yet our faith must
be precisely bounded, although this boundary is to be none other than
the infinite succession of points where time and eternity meet and bow
down before God. This morning I saw His Beauty in a daisy. ... I do
not believe that God will reveal His mysteries if we seek to know
them, without inflicting a penalty. The way of knowledge is the way of
silent patience, which lies quietly dreaming of Love till the flood
washes it with Living Light.


August 18.

Every time we look into another's soul we may enter Paradise. There is
an indescribable grace in the air this first day of prescient autumn.
The summer has taught me the secret of loneliness and the infinite way