Canticle

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Lord,

I give praise that even in the darkness of the winter, I now see that green comes from the soil again; that even in the dryness of decay, beneath there is richness and loam; that in solitude self imposed, there is friendship which awaits; that in the touch of the earth upon my hands there is again hope, again relief from the nameless despair which has covered my eyes like a long winter night.

Give me strength to enter into the labyrinth of this garden, a maze without walls or pathways that leads to a centre I still as of yet am unable to know, but must have faith to believe will one day lay before me.  Help me to undertake the planting and sowing, weeding and tilling, moving of stones, culturing of waters, as I would know how to within the walls of my own inner garden, my own mind.

Order the beginning, direct the progress, and perfect the achievement of my work.  You who are true God and true man, and live and reign for ever and ever.

Amen.

Canticle

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