"The real trick to life is not to be in the know, but to be in the mystery."
-Fred Alan Wolf
13 October 2016
Sometimes the desire to be lost again, as long ago, comes
over me like a vapor. With growth into adulthood, responsibilities claimed me,
so many heavy coats. I didn’t choose them, I don’t fault them, but it took time
to reject them. Now in the spring I kneel, I put my face into the packets of
violets, the dampness, the freshness, the sense of ever-ness. Something is
wrong, I know it, if I don’t keep my attention on eternity. May I be the
tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful. May I stay forever
in the stream. May I look down upon the windflower and the bull thistle and the
coreopsis with the greatest respect.