What we refer to as ‘one’s heart’ is an array of senses, not merely the organ which beats within us. These senses… are imperative, ancient, trustworthy, and intelligent. But they retreat from our experience in part partly in the sense that they are unweclome, uncelebrated, in most of the contexts in which we are engaged.

Who are your people? What does it mean to see another being with one’s heart, rather than merely one’s knowledge? From whom or what… do we really descend?

The sirens are singing. Our species is hypnotized by their wailing… the world is changing in ways we are unequipped to see, as yet… is the light at the end of the tunnel simply the sign of the oncoming train — or is there something in which we may reliably place not merely our hope… but our faith?