From all journeys, be they imaginative or geographic, the most important souvenirs to be collected are the reminders that people's lives are fortifie… - Loreena McKennitt

Standing on the bridge that crosses The river that goes out to the sea The wind is full of a thousand voices They pass by the bridge and me.

May, 1993 - Stratford... have been reading through the poetry of 15th century Spain, and I find myself drawn to one by the mystic writer and visionary St. John of the Cross; the untitled work is an exquisite, richly metaphoric love poem between himself and his god. It could pass as a love poem between any two at any time ... His approach seems more akin to early Islamic or Judaic works in its more direct route to communication to his god... I have gone over three different translations of the poem, and am struck by how much a translation can alter our interpretation. I am reminded that most holy scriptures come to us in translation, resulting in a diversity of views.

Within my pounding heart which kept itself entirely for him
He fell into his sleep beneath the cedars all my love I gave From o'er the fortress walls the wind would his hair against his brow And with its smoothest hand caressed my every sense it would allow.