Have I spoken this day of aught else?
Is not religion all deeds and all reflection,
And that which is neither deed nor reflection, but a wonder
and a surprise ever springing in the soul, even while the
hands hew the stone or tend the loom?
Who can separate his faith from his actions, or his belief
from his occupations?
Who can spread his hours before him, saying, "This for God
and this for myself; This for my soul, and this other for my
"All your hours are wings that beat through space from self to self.
He who wears his morality but as his best garment were better naked.
The wind and the sun will tear no holes in his skin.
And he who defines his conduct by ethics imprisons his song-bird in a cage.
The freest song comes not through bars and wires.
And he to whom worshipping is a window, to open but also
to shut, has not yet visited the house of his soul whose
windows are from dawn to dawn.
Your daily life is your temple and your religion.
Whenever you enter into it take with you your all.
Take the plough and the forge and the mallet and the lute,
The things you have fashioned in necessity or for delight.
For in revery you cannot rise above your achievements nor
fall lower than your failures.
And take with you all men:
For in adoration you cannot fly higher than their hopes nor
humble yourself lower than their despair.
And if you would know God be not therefore a solver of
Rather look about you and you shall see Him playing with
And look into space; you shall see Him walking in the cloud,
outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in
You shall see Him smiling in flowers, then rising and waving
His hands in trees.