Show Me All the Bounty of Your Giving

Show me all the bounty of your giving:
Each cornucopia spills out in vain
As some of the sweet happiness of living
Sinks deep into a dry and dusty plain.
Of labor and of love there is no ending,
Nor can we ever pocket our reward.
Some tender that we're tempted into spending
Goes for gifts that others can't afford.
Remember that the Earth's a single sea,
Equable in what one takes and gives.
Each act redeems its value naturally,
Taking grace from everything that lives.
In giving there is rich and varied treasure,
Nor more nor less than taking's vivid pleasure,
Granting ample joy to those who care,
Subject to what pain they choose to share.
Silence Is a Quality of Snow
Silence is a quality of snow.
Eager to hear it, I trudge through virgin fields,
Awake at the heart of nothingness, and so
Seized press on, as the world's white oneness yields.
Oh, what happiness! Though the deadly cold
Numbs the extremities, traveling inward.
'Ere it reaches the heart, I turn, the old
Songs singing in my head as I head homeward.
Give thanks, then, for the unforgiving silence,
Revelation in white swaddling clothes,
Eden's seed asleep as we find radiance
Even in the bleak December snows.
To be is to contain the holy light,
In nothingness the being ever born,
Never more the locus of delight,
Grace the equal gift of day and night,
Shining like a candle until dawn.
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