In the quiet moments, in the still places,

I can sometimes hear it;

An urgent voice, echoing through the wildernesses of the world,

and of my heart

calling me to prepare and to participate

in the new world that wants to be born.


How can I be part of something that I haven’t seen,

that I struggle even to conceptualise, let alone understand?

Yet, still the voice calls, and my heart stirs.


I begin to imagine a world of joy and creativity,

a world where the poor are always cared for

and the rich are always generous;

a world where justice guides,

and where mourning is always temporary;

a world where the highest values are valued most highly

and where priorities and agendas are set

with the greatest good in mind.


This world exists, Jesus, in the Gospel you preached,

in the stable and the cross and the empty tomb,

in Baptismal waters and Eucharistic meals

in your constant calling, and your constant coming.


And so we praise you for this world,

and for the dream that we can learn to know it here and now

even as you do.