e. Suns and winds and
waters are what we make them. Pantheism confuses the image of the
image with the face. Nature is the mirror of man as man is the mirror
of God. Nay more, nature is the mirror in time of man's eternity, as
man is the image in time and eternity of God. It is for this reason
that the stars are the open book of the future, though they are not to
be read by men aloud. Astrology is forbidden because it violates the
precept of silence, which is the courtesy we pay as gentlemen to God.
We may only read the stars in little children's eyes, wherein their
future is concealed. The breast of Mary is the fountain of the stars,
and round it fly the seraphim in flaming adoration of the blessed
womb. Her eyes are God's dew, wherein the secret of His Light is
whispered by the thrones. I felt through the morning His human
Presence graciously walking the roads, and I was resting on His left
Arm that brought me to His Heart, the country wherein the dreams of my
will are born.

August 12.

I have been sick today. Rain and tempest, but God was on the wind, and
I am happy.

August 13.

Still ill. Rain and fog with intermittent sunshine. But I am as happy
as I have ever been.

August 14.

Still ill. Fog in the morning breaking into a wonderful pearl day of
summer haze. Our bodily senses are instruments in our orchestra.

August 15.

Today I sank into Beauty several times in the sunlight.

August 16.

Read through the last proofs and on the dunes with my mother in the
afternoon I lived in the light of God. The sun I caused to smile and I
wrapped myself in the blue of the Virgin's sky. I found myself causing
a shower twice by failing in humility. But the laughing Light of God's
eyes in my soul is eternal, and when I submit it controls the tides of
my body and mind. Tonight a woodpecker alighted on Father K----'s
shoulder and stayed with him nearby. The Brahmin may attain to the
shadow of the first syllable of the Word. He does not believe that
there are others. _Om_ is simply the symbol of inward breath,
inspiration. I heard myself today very near to the Heart of Silence,
whose systole and diastole is the ebb and flow of Love from Eternity
to Eternity. Time is the sound of silence and is dead to all eternity.
It is the only beautiful death that the angels do not mourn, for in
the death of Time is the Redemption of the World. It takes the circle
of eternity to unite the four points of the cross, and a