When winds are raging o'er the upper oceanAnd billows wild contend with angry roar,'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotionThat peaceful stillness reigneth evermore.Far, far beneath, the noise of tempests diethAnd silver waves chime ever peacefully,And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flyethDisturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea.
I am part of the sun as my eye is part of me, That I am part of the earth my feet know perfectly, and my blood is part of the sea... There is nothing of me that is alone and absolute, except my mind, and we shall find that the mind has no existence by itself, it is only the glitter of the sun on the surface of the waters.
Perhaps, after all, our best thoughts come when we are alone. It is good to listen, not to voices but to the wind blowing, to the brook running cool over polished stones, to bees drowsy with the weight of pollen. If we attend to the music of the earth, we reach serenity. And then, in some unexplained way, we share it with others.