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Deep peace

Deep peace of the running wave to you

Deep peace of the flowing air to you

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you

Deep peace of the shining stars to you

Deep peace of the infinite peace of you

Adapted from Gaelic runes

How do the geese know when to fly to the sun? Who tells them the seasons? How do we, humans, know when it is time to move on? As with the migrant birds, so surely with us, there is a voice within, if only would listen to it, that tells us so certainly when to go forth into the unknown.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

For everything thre is a season, and a time for

every matter under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant,

and a time to pluck up what is planted;

a time to kill, and a time to heal, a time to break

down, and a time to build up

a time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to

mourn, and a time to dance;

a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather

stones together;

a time to embrance, and a time to refrain from


a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep,

and a time to cast away,

a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep

silence, and time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war,

and a time for peace

Ecclesiastes 3: 1 - 9

Beautiful words from Dying: A New Zealand Guide for the Journey

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