Wednesday, May 21, 2003



There is a majesty that is lost in cities, of day and night passing in full savor, of sun and moon and stars, cosmoses entire coming into one, the grand nurturing. I love it when the first cooler breath of evening slides down the mountain on its airy wings and nudges my body, so much older than I, to warm itself enough to stay outdoors, reminding it to savor what is coming of the night, the angelic mutual process that each darkening is in life (how well our practiced bodies know the night) as in the day, ancient familiar returning onward. Where you are should never matter more than who you are, what your history is, the story you carry in the blood and bone, that is told upon your eyes-- this entire world at any moment is but a tiny speck of home...

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