ContributorsJohnathan Bowes ‘15, who writes using the pen name Pancho Acho, is a Science, Technology, and Society major (and intended Spanish minor) from Sacramento, California and Chattanooga, Tennessee. When it comes to religion and spirituality, he identifies as Christian (with an asterisk), given that his beliefs are primarily Protestant Christian with major influences from Catholicism, Dàoism, and Spiritualism, among other things.

Ashley Micks is a PhD student in Aerospace Engineering, which was one of her undergraduate majors at MIT--the other major was Theater Arts. Together, the disciplines of art and science will hopefully allow her to explore the unknowns that exist both out in space and within the spirit.

Michelle Jia, c/o 2016, is a Torontonian writer/musician who comes from a non-religious background. She is currently in the process of discovering what she believes.

Austin Elizabeth Williams is an English major with a Creative Writing Emphasis in Poetry, graduating this June. Austin Elizabeth is frequently found worshipping at Jubilee Christian Center in San Jose when she’s not in class. She hopes to attend Fuller Theological Seminary in Menlo Park in the fall.

Taylor Winfield is a recent graduate from Stanford University with Honors in Sociology and a Minor in Anthropology. Her studies focus on the intersection between positive psychology, sociology, and spirituality.

Table of ContentsLetter from the Editor........................................................................2

A Small Prayer....................................................................................4 Michelle JiaSometimes I go to church..................................................................5 Pancho AchoTalks with my Rabbi...........................................................................7 Taylor WinfieldThe Great Chicken...........................................................................11 Ashley MicksLungs................................................................................................21 Austin Elizabeth WilliamsEnthüllen.........................................................................................24 Michelle Jia

Special Thanks

To the Office of the Vice Provost for Undergraduate Education (VPUE), especially Gina Hernandez-Clarke, Jonah Willihnganz, and Natacha Ruck

To the Deans for Religious Life at Stanford University—Scotty McLennan, Patricia Karlin-Neumann, and JoAnne Sanders—for their inspiration, advice, and support

All photography used in this collection was taken by students in Professor Sue McConnell’s 2011 Arts Intesive class on Conservation Photography, unless otherwise noted.

For any student seeking deeper religious or spiritual engagement at Stanford University, the road almost always leads back to Jane Stanford.

It might be easy to dismiss the relevance of a woman who, popular lore has it, used the point of her umbrella to check the depth of the inscriptions in Memorial Church. Yet Jane selected the words of those inscriptions herself, and laid the foundations for religious pluralism in a largely secular university.

After her husband Leland died in 1893, Jane took over supervision of the university’s then-incomplete Memorial Church. The church was conceived as the symbolic, geographic center of the university. Despite its Christian trappings, Memorial Church was built with a promise of hospitality to other faiths, even beliefs that defy religious affiliation. “Religion is intended as a comfort, a solace, a necessity to the soul’s welfare,” Jane quoted her husband in a 1903 address to the Board of Trustees, “and whichever form of religion furnishes the greatest comfort, the greatest solace, is the form which should be adopted, be its name what it may.”

The university has grown and evolved alongside the shifting role of religion in student culture. Religious diversity on campus has increased and the Office for Religious Life now actively welcomes contemporary atheist, secular humanist, and agnostic philosophies. The continually expanding map of Stanford’s campus makes it futile to consider Memorial Church the geographic center of the university. Yet the relentless symmetry of Palm Drive leading to the sandstone Quad allows no mistake: Memorial Church remains an aesthetic center of the university even today, and Jane’s inclusive religious influence lives on through this aesthetic choice. Perhaps art offers better way of mapping spiritual territory than geometry. Belief is less about taking measurements; more about noticing the pattern, texture, and form (or lack thereof) in our own lives.

This anthology features the work of Stanford students who use creative self-expression to map their relationship to matters of faith. The contributions range from personal statements of faith to creative experiments that probe the inherent uncertainty of belief. [Belief] is a celebration of the creative and religious self-expression of students at Stanford University—it is part of an ever-shifting map of meaning and purpose, knit into the history of the university and the growth of countless individuals who have sought to create meaning in this place.

Heidi Thorsen, EditorB.A. English and Drama, 2012

VPUE Arts Intern, 2012-13

Mapping the Spiritual

This VPUE Arts Intern position is intended as a learning and career development opportunity for a recently graduated leader in the arts at Stanford. In addition to providing the student the opportunity to learn about arts management in a professional setting, the intern designs and implements a creative project of their own.

Stanford Historical Photograph Collection (SC1071). Dept. of Special Collections & University Archives, Stanford University Libraries, Stanford, Calif.

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A Small Prayerby MICHELLE JIA

For the freedom not to desire. For the right to own no property. For the faculty of hearingeven the smallest sounds of the world. For the bravery to seek danger.For the confidence of evolution.For the train to continue movinginto lawless darknesses.

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Sometimes I go to churchby PANCHO ACHO

Sometimes I go to church...When the priest

Isn’t there to see me cry,And the pews all wait,

(Empty of bodies,Full of souls)

For me to sit sobbing(Half in light,

Wholly in darkness)Until the sea calms beneath me.

Sometimes I go to church...When the priest

Has a small flock in the transept,And the quiet side calls

(So loudlyIn its silence)

For me to rest exhausted(Cushioned softly

On the hard wood)Until the yoke becomes easy.

Sometimes I go to church...When the priestStands before the crowd,And glass angels stare(Pinned in a frameAs they float free)For me to stare transfixed(My eyes openingEach time they blink closed)Until I take up my bed and go home.

Sometimes I go to church.

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“Tintern Abbey in Wales”Photo by Hanni HansonTaken during participation in the Bing Overseas Study Program

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Talks with my Rabbiby TAYLOR WINFIELD

ADAMAdam was the first human. Adam was created with dual gender, and was later separated into male and female. Men and women are complementary parts, my rabbi tells me.

BA’A LOT TESHUVA Women who return to traditional Judaism are considered Ba’a lot Teshuva. I started out wanting to research newly orthodox women in Israel. Then I became one. We have so much to learn, my rabbi tells me.

CHOICEI could have chosen Reform or Conservative Judaism. That would have made my life easier as a woman. But I was not looking for easy. I found myself drawn to Judaism as a way of life, something that would overflow into every corner of my existence. I wanted the discipline, the law. It’s too rigid for you, my friends told me. You will be repressed as a woman, they said. Those Jews are crazy, they stated. I was willing to take my chances.

DOMESTICITY Women have a particular role in traditional Judaism: they are the wife and mother, keeper of the household. I laugh. If the sages saw my room, they would probably change their minds. Not all women are equally gifted in domesticity, I tell my rabbi.

EDUCATION Women are discouraged from pursuing higher education or religious pursuits, because women who engage in such pursuits might neglect their primary duties as wives and mothers. Oops.

FEMINISMMy rabbi was nervous when I said I was a feminist. No, it does not mean I hate men. No, it does not mean I want to be a man. I just believe that there should be equal opportunities for religious experience and leadership for women.

G-D Blessed is He, King of the Universe. Although G-d has never been viewed as exclusively male in Judaism, prayers often refer to G-d using masculine terms. I try to catch myself when I call G-d He. I use the feminine pronoun in my prayers.

HALAKHAHalakha is Jewish law. The main issues for Jewish feminists with halakha is the exclusion from the all-male prayer group, the exemption from prayers that must be said at a certain time, and women’s inability to function as witnesses, or to initiate divorce. I struggle with halakha. I use it as the basis for my life, but recognize that some parts are sexist. I am typically not bothered that I do not count towards the ten “Jews” (aka men) that are needed to start prayer. I enjoy sleeping in on Saturday mornings and saying my prayers alone. Yet, when I am sitting at shul with nine men and they say that they need one more person before we can start, I can’t help feel bitter. Am I not a person too?

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INTELLIGENCE. My rabbi tells me that women have a different role because women are endowed with a greater degree of “binah” (intuition, understanding, intelligence) than men. The rabbis inferred this from the fact that woman was “built” (Gen. 2:22) rather than “formed” (Gen. 2:7), and the Hebrew root of “build” has the same consonants as the word “binah.” We are considered more spiritual.

JEWISHAll my ancestors were Jewish. They survived thousands of years of outside persecution. I wonder if my matriarchs felt additional persecution as women.

KOSHERRabbis suggest that dietary laws are designed for holiness. Women are often in charge of keeping food kosher and maintaining the holiness of the household. Try to remember: No milk and meat. No shellfish. No Pork. Repeat.

LILITH Lilith is a female demon who seduces men and threatens babies and women in childbirth. Some women have tried to reinvent Lilith as Adam’s first wife who was rejected because she wanted to be on top during sexual intercourse. Lilith was replaced with Eve, a more submissive second wife. My friends laugh at the idea of me being submissive.

MITZVOTWomen have three mitzvot: Nerot (lighting candles on holidays), Challah (separating a portion of dough before breaking it), Niddah (the obligation to separate herself from her husband during her menstrual period and to immerse herself in a ritual bath after the end of her menstrual period).

NIDDAHAm I really spiritually impure two weeks out of the month? Untouchable?

ORTHODOXThe word orthodox, from Greek orthos (“straight”) + doxa (“belief”) is generally used to mean the adherence to accepted norms, especially in religion. I never expected to be Orthodox.

PARENTSMy parents were nervous when I became more observant. They pressed me on my need to eat ko-sher food and honor the Sabbath. Do you want some shrimp? No, thank you. Can you call me on Saturday? Yes, but after sun down. Eventually they got the idea.

QUESTIONS: 1. Is Orthodox Judaism compatible with feminism? 2. Can women find spiritual fulfillment in traditional Judaism? 3. Is it better to follow a tradition I struggle with or to build a new tradition?

RABBISWithin the various denominations there are different requirements for rabbinic ordination, and differences in opinion regarding who is to be recognized as a rabbi. All types of Judaism except for Orthodox Judaism and some conservative strains ordain women. If women are more spiritual then

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why are they prohibited from being spiritual leaders? I have six rabbis. Four are women and two are men. The rabbi I am talking to is a man with a short beard and black velvet kippah. He is sharing with me the beauty of traditional Judaism, a lifestyle that is not always compatible with my feminist identity. We try to make it fit.

SHEHINAH A powerful image of the Divine feminine within Jewish sources is the Shekhinah, the inner glory of existence

THANK YOU G-D“Who has not made me a woman,” is a prayer that orthodox men say daily. My rabbi insists that the blessing is not intended to disparage women, but merely to express gratitude for the fact that men are obligated to perform more religious commandments. I don’t buy it.

UNFAIR See Thank You G-D.

VAINThere can be no doubt that the oral Torah, the Talmud, has many negative things to say about women. Various rabbis at various times describe women as lazy, jealous, vain and gluttonous, prone to gossip and particularly prone to witchcraft.

WICKED The Talmud says that when a pious man marries a wicked woman, the man becomes wicked. When a wicked man marries a pious woman, the man becomes pious.

X-RATED Sex is regarded as the females’ right, and not the males’. Husbands are commanded to sexually satisfy their wives. In cases of rape, a woman is generally presumed not to have consented to the intercourse, even if she enjoyed it, even if she consented after the sexual act began and declined a rescue.

YOUYou must make the ultimate decision about what you believe, my rabbi tells me.

ZIONZion is a spiritual point from which truth emerges. I pray that one day I will arrive.

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Photo by Rasheedat Zakare-FagbamilaTaken in the Center for Inter-Religious Community, Learning, and Experimences (CIRCLE)at Stanford University

11

The Great Chickenby ASHLEY MICKS

Sunset on the beach of a desert island. JIM, late twenties, lies sprawled on the ground, face down. He wears a business suit, minus the jacket, and his tie is askew. At the other end of the stage, where a few ferns suggest the edge of a jungle, TARKEE enters. She is about seven and wears an old t-shirt that comes down to her knees, a skirt of giant leaves, and a crown of flowers. She looks like she’s been living in the woods and hasn’t combed or cut her hair in years. Slowly, cautiously, she edges up to JIM. When he doesn’t respond, she grows bolder, peering closely at him, fascinated. Finally, she pokes his side. No response. She nudges him.

TARKEEHello?

JIMMmf.

(TARKEE jumps back. When nothing more happens, she goes up and nudges him again. With a groan, he heaves himself onto his back and sits up.)

JIMOkay! I’m up, I’m up! (He takes in his surroundings.) . . . What . . . ? I’m covered in . . . in sand?

(He stands slowly and brushes himself off, his eyes on the horizon like he’s in a daze. TARKEE has ducked into the foliage to watch. He turns in place, one step at a time, until his eyes fall on a seat cushion that’s washed up next to him. It’s an airline cushion with handles on the underside. He inspects it, turning it over in his hands.)

JIMThis? . . . Am I still in that dream where . . . where the plane did the . . . crashing . . . thing— (drops the cushion, staring blankly ahead of him) . . . Oh. . . . Oh, crap . . . this is real, isn’t it? . . . Wait, is that . . . ? (squints and tilts his head) I can see the ocean on the other side of the island. Through the trees.

(He laughs nervously, collapsing back into sitting position. He nods, a terrified smile on his face. )

JIMI—I’m really gonna die, I— . . . No, wait—omygod, maybe— (He’s up again, frantically patting his pockets. Finding something, he stops, relieved. He pulls out a cell phone and inspects it gently. At the sight of the phone, TARKEE gasps in awe. Excited but reverent, she steps forward.)

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JIMCome on, baby. They said you were waterproof.

TARKEE(an awed whisper)

The Egg of Ages!

JIMUh . . . W-what? Where’d you come from?

TARKEEOh, glorious! Let me see it!

(She reaches for the phone and he holds it away from her, startled.)

JIMUhh—Are you alright, little girl? You, uh . . . (He cocks his head, trying to figure out what she is.)Someone made you clothes. Out of plants. God, how long have I been out? Days? Wait, you are from the airplane, right? . . . You speak English . . .

TARKEEThe Egg—where did you find it? I’ve waited so long.

JIMIt’s my phone. My company gave it to me.

TARKEEThe Egg has many forms. Here, I must take it to Foonkuay so that she may be appeased.

(She reaches for the phone again, but he steps back.)

JIMY-you can’t have my phone! I might need it to get out of here. (calms himself and squats down to her level, trying to act friendly)Listen . . . I want you to just tell me—where we are. I was flying from Japan to California . . . are we anywhere near Hawaii?

TARKEEThis is the Island of the Great Chicken. In the middle of the Big Blue Sea that separates us from the unbelievers of the Outer-World by many, many miles.

JIMRight . . . Oh—miles! So you’re definitely American, then. (fantasizing)Rich parents? Let you lead an elaborate fantasy life? With a yacht on the other side of the island to take me home?

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TARKEEThere is no time for this. Foonkuay must have the Egg before sundown.

JIMIs . . . Foonkuay a grown-up?

TARKEE(indignantly)

Foonkuay is Greatest of the Great. And she must be appeased.

JIM(playing along, trying again to be friendly)

Alright, so later we’ll find her a real egg. You see, my phone is very special to me, and I don’t think Foonkuay would want—

TARKEEBlasphemer! The Great Foonkuay will not allow such deception!

JIMLook, I don’t think your mom . . . slash, female-caregiver-person . . . wants my phone. (He opens the back of the phone, shakes it to get any water out, and tries turning it on.)But if you could take me to her, I’d appreciate . . .

TARKEE(pointing at the phone)

Foonkuay! Must! Have! The Egg!

JIMYou’re awful sure of yourself.

TARKEEFoonkuay never lies.

JIMOh! She told you I was coming?

TARKEE(impatiently)

Foonkuay is responsible for all that is.

JIMWe are talking about your mom, right? (TARKEE is finished listening to him. She jumps at the phone. He pulls it out of reach. She chases him, jumping to reach his hand. She is fuming and close to tears.)

TARKEEFoonkuay is not my mother! My mother is dead!

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JIM . . . Oh.

TARKEEFoonkuay washed up on the sand when I was starving! I picked her up and cleaned her off, and she gave me life to serve her. I am her High Priestess—I must not disappoint heeeeeeeeeeer!

JIMStarving—How long have you . . . ? (The phone chimes happily.)Aha!

TARKEEIt senses its maker’s presence. It knows the time is near.

JIMAnd . . . I have no reception.

(She grabs his wrist.)

TARKEEQuickly! The sun is almost gone! We must return the Egg to Foonkuay so that the cycle may be complete!

JIMWhat? I’m not gonna let you sacrifice my phone to—to what? Some floating piece of trash you worship? (He breaks away from her and searches for reception with the phone.)You’re just being temperamental, aren’t you, beautiful? You’ll save me . . .

TARKEEThe sun is almost gone!

JIMOkay! Settle down! Good grief, it’s not the end of the world.

TARKEE(darkly)

It is.

JIM(caught off guard)

Uh . . .

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TARKEEWe must see her.

(He studies her in disbelief, and she stares back in wide-eyed frustration, gripping his wrist. Finally, he sighs and relaxes slightly.)

JIMFine, let’s see this Foonkuay, if it’ll calm you down. But I won’t let you hurt my phone.

TARKEEThe Egg will not be harmed. It will merely bloom into a new level of existence.

JIM(nervous)

So, it—uh—it turns into a next-generation iPhone, then?

(She heads off and he starts to follow.)

TARKEEOnly the High Priestess of the Great Chicken may enter the Poultry Shrine. Wait here.

(She exits. Thunder rumbles as JIM waits. TARKEE returns carrying an old rubber chicken in a carefully woven nest. She holds the nest in both hands, raising it high in exaltation. With an elaborate, kneeling bow, she sets it center stage and prostrates herself before the chicken. JIM watches the ritual from a safe distance.)

JIM(to himself, puzzled)

It’s . . . a rubber chicken.

TARKEEO Great Foonkuay, Layer of the Egg of the Universe, On this sunset of the Last Day, I bring you the Egg of Ages, That the Cycle of Life may continue. (She pauses. Thunder!)Yes, I have failed, O Great One—I took too long in bringing it. I beg your mercy—please forgive your servant and lead me to the new life you promised, in the Land of Twinkies and Ho-Hos. (Pause. Thunder!)Thank you, O Great One!

JIM(eyeing the darkening sky)

Uh . . . little girl? This is starting to freak me out . . .

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TARKEENow, let the Hatching begin! Let the old universe crack and crumble as a new Chicken bursts forth! (She turns to JIM and holds out her palm.)The Egg!

JIMI—I think you’re taking this a couple steps too far . . .

(Thunder crashes.)

TARKEEThe Egg!

(He clutches the phone protectively.)

JIMYou’re not hatching my egg! Crazy little voodoo princess—I’m out of here! (He spins to run, but stops short, staring at his empty hands.) . . . Wait, where’s my phone? (TARKEE has the phone. She raises it high overhead.)AH!! How did—?!

(Kneeling, she presents the phone to the chicken.)

TARKEEAnd now, the Egg comes before the Chicken, and the Chicken comes before the Egg. The Cycle is complete.

(She sets the phone in the nest, resting the chicken on top of it. She sits back and bows her head meditatively. JIM waits.)

JIM(finally)

. . . That’s it?

TARKEESh!

JIM . . . Can I have my phone back?

TARKEESh-hhh!

(JIM studies the scene a moment longer, then exhales sharply and strides up to the nest.)

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JIMI’m taking my phone back.

(When his fingers are about to touch the chicken, she shrieks.)

TARKEESTOP!

(He winces.)

JIMGod! Could you take the freakiness down like six or seven notches? I’ve had enough of this game. Good night.

(He snatches up the phone and turns away. The sky suddenly darkens another degree.)

JIM. . . What just happened?

(Thunder.)

TARKEE(whispering)

The Cycle is broken.

JIMWill you stop that! There is no cycle! There is no magical egg! There is no God! And if there were, it wouldn’t be Funky the Chicken! This— (He sticks the phone in her face.)is a cellular phone, and this— (He grabs the chicken by the neck and shakes it in the air.)is a rubber chicken!

VOICE(booming from the heavens)

WHO FINGERS MY RUBBERY LIKENESS?

(JIM freezes.)

TARKEEYou have angered her.

JIMWhat the . . .

VOICEYOU HAVE DISRUPTED THE HATCHING. NOW THERE WILL BE NO NEW UNIVERSE.

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JIMWhaat??

TARKEEI tried to warn you.

JIMAre you kidding me??

VOICENO.

JIM(addressing the voice)

G—Get out of here! You don’t exist! You’re a figment of my imagination—that’s the only explanation. My plane crashed. Okay. So I’m in a hospital hallucinating on painkillers. Wake up, Jim!

TARKEEAnd you still don’t believe? You see the apocalypse coming with your own eyes, and you still think Foonkuay is not divine? You wouldn’t know the truth if it killed you—and it will! It’ll kill us all.

JIMJust shut up.

TARKEEAdmit it!

JIMShut up! I’m done with this retarded chicken-god thing. I’m going over there to sleep. Maybe I’ll wake up in—I don’t know—reality?

TARKEEArrghh! How blind can you be??

VOICENEVER MIND, TARKEE. WHEN PEOPLE GET USED TO SEEING THE UNIVERSE A CERTAIN WAY, IT’S HARD TO CHANGE—

JIMYou shut up, too! Huh. “Voice from above.” It’s all in my head. So I command you to quit freaking me out!

(The phone rings.)

JIMGreat. A reality check.

(answers the phone)Hello? Oh! Hello, sir—I know, sorry . . . I know it was important. It’s just my flight was . . . well, it crashed. (pause)Yes! . . . I’m sure there’s something in the news about it . . . (pause)No, I’m fine. Except I um . . . might be hallucinating a little. Dehydration or something. But I know it’s all in my head, so I’m all right. (pause) . . . You too? What do you mean? What’re you seeing? (pause)No, no, of course—we’re both reasonable people, I know there must be a logical explanation. But . . . the lights going off in the buildings around you . . . that sounds similar to what’s happening here. The horizon’s just . . . disappearing. (pause)Hello? You’re breaking up . . . hello? (Pause. JIM lets the phone drop from his hand.)I don’t get it.

TARKEE. . . I’m scared.

JIMThe universe is weirder than I thought.

(JIM and TARKEE are isolated in a small area of light. They move together to stay out of the advancing darkness. TARKEE grabs onto JIM’s leg for security. He wasn’t expecting that, and he looks at her.)

JIMHey—hey, it’s all right. (He squats down to her level.)It’s all gonna be . . . fine. Right?

TARKEE(still clinging to him helplessly)

You did this!

JIM . . . I know, I—I’m sorry. Don’t cry! If I could fix it . . . Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m here, okay? I’m here for you. Don’t cry, Tarkee—that’s your name, right?

(He wraps her up in his arms. She returns the hug.)

JIMAll right, chicken-god! You win! I believe it. Fine. I believe everything! But the little girl shouldn’t have to die.

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VOICEI DON’T WANT HER TO DIE. I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO DIE, BUT NOW THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO.

JIMI bet you want me to die.

VOICEYOU’RE PART OF MY EGG, TOO.

JIM(touched)

I’m . . . ? (suddenly)But . . . you’re a god, right? What do you mean there’s nothing you can do?

VOICEI’M A CHICKEN. I LAY EGGS AND HELP THEM HATCH. BUT YOU STOPPED THE EGG FROM HATCHING . . .

JIMThe egg . . . the universe was becoming something new, and I stopped it? Well, then we just have to start it again, right? Uh—uh—we can, uh—Wait! There’re other rubber chickens in the world, right? Maybe . . .

(Startled, TARKEE pulls back to look at him.)

TARKEEThere are?

JIMWell, yeah. They use them all the time in cheap theater.

VOICE(fascinated)

REALLY! THEN . . . PERHAPS THERE IS HOPE.

JIMI don’t know if it makes any sense, but . . . yeah, I think there is hope. In a crazy universe like this, who’re we not to believe in miracles?

(TARKEE and JIM sit in each other’s arms. The lights remain on until they go back to full brightness for bows.)

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Lungsby AUSTIN ELIZABETH WILLIAMS

Clearly, someone wantsa love song tonight;he wants to hear it,how I love him

Have to admit it,I’m in love with you-I sing, blushing,I look away, shy

but full of love, and warm.

Don’t let me resist!Pull me toward you,relax my heart.Let me sing to you-

Embarrassedto grow upMy heart is poured outall over the place

I turn away, conflicted.I don’t want him to seehow hard it is for meto love- and be loved

I cringeat the messI bring-Afraid-Don’t knowhow to-it hurtsto open-yet-want tobe onewith himand oh-

he is patient!Allows me yearsof fighting,yearsfrozenplayingdead

He waits, and, with his waiting,he turns my heart toward him.

my life knowsbefore I dothis is whyI was born

that knowing himthat knowing-(I stilldon’t trulyknow)(I have hadto give upknowing)has swallowed meand I’m glad-

it’s the only loveI believe inbeing swallowed wholecrushed, victoriousburning aliveand surviving-

that slowquick drowning,you don’t feel ittil it’s yours

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Irresistible

Content with itselfthis love seduces me

and I sing.Open-sing myself open,walk slowlytremblepause.This love isheavyfull of withness,together-glory.

This piano love

a slow sharing,holdingone holding thegift of a new heartsitting,

together,his wholeness, my wholenessresting in him.

This love iswith me

and I amwith this love,and we areone.

Want to dancefor you, with youunder the starsin the fieldin the sunon the grassin the waveson the sandforever

we will makethe sunstand still

make the earthstand up

there is no songwe cannot singseen it alland now wedance

years as steps,moments eternity

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This love iswith me!I delight myselfin this surprise,this great wonder,this impossible yes.Beautiful sweetness -unexpected turn,this most perfectunwanted, even,at this point

what love is this?that waits forever-watchesand does not flinch-while the heartwandershatesloses all feeling-

thank youthank youthank youthank you

I sing to you tonightof all my hope in uspassion promised,waiting to unfold

I sing of yearsyet to come-I sing your longingfor me -speak tomydepthsunlock me,emergingundaunted

let meconstant beyour prisoner

otherwisesurelywandermyheartwill

I will prayin the middleof the night-you will shakeprison walls-doors willopen!

I will stay

and pray formore boldness

make meyour prisonerPlease!Don’t leave itup to meas much asI love you,I will fail you.(I know whyElisha burnedthe plows)

Love meenoughto guardmy escape.

Take me -come!lead meenjoy mefill meerase me.burn medestroy meslay me,I will trust you.

Still, amazed,I thank you.You.How you loveme!animal,true unloved,skunk.

Yes, this loveoverpowering comesevento the skunk.

I sing unashamedskunk songsto you forever.Here isallmy heart,lungs, scent.

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Enthüllenby MICHELLE JIA

No, for I felt in the depths of my soulthat some unfortunate crime was ending.That the crass expression of Nature’s chaoswas a line drawn backwards with a dead branch,ever-drunken. That zealotry made the self!No studied husbandry created it,brows drawn in consternation, bitterwith strict intention. Yes, the world bade me listen—For God is a force without hands,an expression and a movement,ever-symmetrical and ever-proceedingalong an unsayable course. And we!We sprung up like tulip-heads,nor studied or dreaded,nor asked or recognized. Our dances mapped the winds;our nods made up the wave.

There is no narrowing so deadly as thenarrowing of man's horizon of spiritual things.

Inscription from Stanford Memorial ChurchPhoto: Memorial Church Acoustics Papers (SCM0263). Dept. of Special Collections and University Archives,

Stanford University Libraries, Stanford, Calif.

This project is supported bythe Office of the Vice Provost for Undergraduate Education