Monday, April 08, 2002

Early this morning when I awoke and sleepily threw the bedroom window curtains aside, I was astonished to see that the red cedars flocking outside in the semidarkness were in fact fashioned of a kind of opaque amber glass, lit from within by a mystical candle, this inner light variegated with a shadowy shifting over the surface...infinitely finer work than the semblances by Tiffany or Lalique. I was entranced by this realization, and stood there absent with awe until dreams had fully faded and education had climbed back to its lofty place to show me that the stained glass of the cedars was in fact the rising sun dappling the trees through their wind-dancing branches-- thus does the great mother vouchsafe to us, whenever we manage to step ourselves aside a moment by whatever means, the many secret other things that can be seen with eyes.

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