0237 The Mind

Sometimes we curse the restlessness of mind; forgetting it's God's gift, this restlessness: for this will never cease until it find that which it seeks: its still and perfect rest. Without that restlessness, the angry man, once angered, then would never leave that state; an artist, end no better than began; and our delusions never would abate. The instability of human mind more constant than its owner, ever roams like bee, for nectar of a finer kind: the rest, the peace, the love of God alone. So love the constant mind's inconstancy; so faithful in its search for unity.