Quick as the flash of anger came the heart's recoil.
Aghast, I scanned the weapon I had used, and asked:
"Is this my concept of the sword of Spirit? Will
I never learn to trust the power of Truth?" I bowed
My head. "I did not mean to crush the broken reed
Or wound the fluttering dove. Forgive me, God," I said.
Then soft I heard: "You are my own beloved child
In whom I am well pleased. There is no broken reed,
No wounded dove, no night, no nightmare, only Love.
Creation is inviolate, for Love is All."
