Meditation on the Four of SwordsThe chapel for the vigil is in A wild forest, a wild stony river, bugs and birds. Heat, but the breezes are cool. The sound of water everywhere. The chapel is a stone hut by the river, right where it turns; Its window has a view of the lands downstream, very hazy now. He blesses me and leaves me here to meditate. Inside it is somewhat damp and dusty. I lie down, take a brief nap, and when I wake the sun is setting; everything is red and hazy gold. I feel the birds in the air and the fish in the stream. They speak languages I have not heard before. I feel called to go outside the hut and plant seeds in a circle around it. When the sun sets I listen to the water and the crickets. A wind picks up and tosses the trees. The night is quite dark — no stars. Silence comes and goes, following the night’s hunters on their rounds. This is wilderness, but it is full of voices.