God is not dead?

And when the cold bites harder, the clouds close in and the night tightens its grip, the hungry child, huddled, takes pity on his own humanity. Crouched in his weakened little body, he lifts his gaze, connecting with the innocent vulnerability of his heart, and from there he raises a plea that would make the cruelest King of hosts weep.

And when the sun warms the land, the farmer rises, fed by the sweat of his brow. He looks at the Promised Land beneath his feet and all around him, and all he can do is give thanks to the Origin of his silent happiness.

When the city dweller, distressed by the weight of his duties, seeks relief in the study of spirituality. He opens his mind to the breaking in of established reality and questions human values, eventually melting into an eternal Nothingness.

And also when the shepherd interrupts his peaceful work to sit on the throne of his own life, forced to push the boulder of savage survival again and again. In perfect joy he travels his path, written from beyond space-time, and smiles at the storms assigned to him, celebrating that, among all the adventures, the reader lives in the innocence of transcendence.

I don't know what happened before the theories of physics about time became valid. Who fired the Big Bang of the everything in which I breathe.

Existence is happening now. The All is originating now. Now is when I am alive, bursting into the entropy of an expanding universe that is being created as it is perceived.

To that Source I plead. To that Origin I give thanks. That unknowable Nothingness I celebrate while I exist.

Thank you, Spirit of life. Thank you for becoming flesh in a wretched human being who is sometimes a desolate child, other times a smiling farmer, or a hippie city dweller, or the king of his own life.

Thank you because, although I don't know whether you are a Father who watches over my most secret deeds, good-natured but moralistic, or whether you perhaps died under the strain of reason, the expression of my soul toward You lights up my spirit and returns my trust to the center of my Will.

Do not kill my God, for He is who I Am.

Long live life in all its forms. May blessings vibrate as far as My gaze can reach. May the universe go on expanding according to the perfect laws of harmony that make me who I am.

To my God I surrender, in soul, body and perception.